Kodoku no Fortress
by Spirit-hime
Summary: Meiou Setsuna is a woman of unknown age. Her past is a series of flickering shadows in her deep garnet eyes. She appears completely alone now, but what if someone did exist in her life at one time? [CHAPT. 6 UP]
1. Prologue

Kodoku no Fortress  
  
Prologue  
  
By Spirit-hime  
  
************  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
"She should have gotten off work hours ago."  
  
"Have you tried calling her?"  
  
"I hope this rain lets up."  
  
"Maybe we should go looking for her."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."  
  
The guests were all becoming antsy, and with good reason. Be here at   
seven, they had said. Don't be late, you might miss her! But as the   
hour approached eleven, the guest of honor still refused to make an   
appearance. Cake frosting and party dresses alike began to melt under   
the oppressive weight of expectant waiting. Wine and coke had long   
become flat, food trays looked picked at and were showing the early   
stages of staleness. October rain splattered against the darkened   
windowpanes, creating eerie stomping noises throughout the spacious house.   
Conversation was reduced to the occasional comment or impatient muttering.   
While their spirits no longer soared as high as the ceiling, one   
sparkling, shining silver banner managed to brighten the shady rafters.   
The red letters upon it read "Happy Birthday Setsuna".  
  
The plan had been in development for weeks. Few were aware of the date   
of the mysterious woman's birthday, and those who were acknowledged it with   
polite discreteness: on her bed in the early morning light she would find   
a card from Hotaru, possibly with some flowers, and in the evening the   
four women of the household would sit down to dinner together and gifts   
would be left by her plate or her chair. She would not be expected to   
open them immediately, or even with anyone watching, and she would thank   
each accordingly in the days afterwards. That was how it went, just like   
clockwork. Hotaru had once asked Setsuna why so little was done for her   
birthday, but her eldest mother merely brushed her off, replying that birthdays   
are not important to her. Upon asking the other women who shared the massive   
house, the only answer she recieved was that Setsuna does not like birthdays.   
Hotaru knew there was more to that, in the way that Setsuna often vanished   
for the entire day, only to turn up again minutes before dinner. Or the way   
that Haruka and Michiru were ever-so-careful to always have a fresh-cut dusty   
purple rose set on the table on that day. That was her favorite flower,   
Hotaru knew. The dusty purple rose with the strange name of "Blue Bird".  
  
When the young woman discussed this unusual trend with her closest friend, Chibi   
Usa, the pink haired girl instantly responded with an idea. A surprise party!   
Surely Puu would love that! The girls giggled with anticipation as their party   
ideas sprang forth. Hotaru's other adopted parents were not completely receptive   
to the idea at first, but they soon succumed to the child's pleas. The plans were   
carefully laid out with Puu's many other friends. Before long the entire party   
had been established, complete with nine sailor senshi (plus a not-quite-as-female   
senshi), three felines, and one chocolate   
spice cake.  
  
The sound of footsteps on the pavement outside brought everyone to attention.   
  
"Quick, she's coming!"  
  
The lights flicked off, bodies crouched down, Usagi recieving a hard pinch from   
Rei to convince her to be quiet. The door swung open, creaking slightly on its   
hinges. A figure stepped inside and reached for the light switch.  
  
"SURPRISE!"  
  
The question was, who was the surprise for?  
  
It was Setsuna, alright. There was no mistaking that garnet hair. As it was, the   
dark green strands had plastered themselves across her face and arms, one especially   
annoying one finding its way between her eyes and down across her nose. Her face   
looked a little more pale than it should have been, red-rimmed eyes painted with   
mascara that smeared across her cheeks. Her long black skirt was frayed in the back,   
and dripped with as much rain water as her hair, forming a puddle at her feet.  
  
She did not scream in surprise, nor did she happily giggle at her friends. She   
only stared at them, her crimson eyes a mixture of rare emotions. Silence descended   
upon the room for a moment.   
  
At last, she flicked her hair out of her face, smiled softly, and shrugged. "Well,   
sorry I'm late." 


	2. Hour 1

Kodoku no Fortress  
  
Hour I  
  
By Spirit-hime  
  
************  
  
Setsuna reclined at the foot of her bed, dabbing at her hair with a towel. The party   
had already broken up, giving her a chance to take a hot shower and enjoy a little time   
by herself.  
  
Her lateness had been out of the ordinary, she knew. Always her birthdays were spent on   
her own, taking the time out to wander through a park or even do a little shopping. She   
never spent her time reminiscing, or even thinking for that matter. Do not think, just   
feel. Do not dwell on the past, but take a few hours of this day to celebrate the fact   
that you survived one more year. Have a little fun, buy some barbecued odango¹ and walk   
barefoot through the grass. Go to a cafe and flirt with the waiter, rent a dog and take   
it for a walk². She never stopped to wonder why she went through such motions, and her   
friends, who themselves did not know the real reason for it, politely respected it and were   
sure to stay out of her way. But through all that time that she spent not thinking, not   
dwelling, not remembering the past, deep in her gut she sensed the reasons. She sensed them,   
but she chose to ignore them. Look forwards and not backwards and you'll be alright. Keep   
going no matter what. And when your hours are up and you feel like you can stand again,   
go back home and return to the rest of your life.  
  
But this time she messed up. This time she let herself look back. What triggered it? Oh yes,   
the key. How did it get there, conveniently situated between her sun glasses and her wallet in   
the simple black purse she carried? It was small and somewhat ordinary, much like the little   
gold keys that hung from a large chain on her sailor fuku and allowed travelers to stroll   
unhindered through time. At first glance it looked tarnished, perhaps from old age or lack   
of use. Upon closer inspection, however, one could see that it was not of metal but of smooth   
greyish stone that was cold to the touch and felt a little heavier than such a small object   
should be. In it was a single dark red jewel, making it almost appear to be a shrunken version   
of the heavy staff Sailor Pluto carried.  
  
As she gazed at it in confusion, small drops had begun to splatter down from the heavy clouds   
overhead. She cautiously pulled the key out of her purse, and she remembered. She remembered   
who this item belonged to. She remembered where it came from. She remembered why it was now   
in her possession. She remembered what she had lost. The drizzle turned to a storm, her   
memories rushed at her one after another, and in her heart the floodwaters came.  
  
Setsuna's appearance later would be the result of long hours spent wandering through the   
torrents of rain that descended both on and in her. She had found herself crying--crying!   
A deed that no one would think the cold and ancient soldier of time was even   
capable of doing. But that is just what she did. She sat down beneath a tree in the center   
of a dark and deserted park, and she cried her eyes out, screaming a name that had been long   
forgotten.  
  
Her tears were long spent, but she felt no better for it. A past that she had spent thousands  
of years trying to leave behind had loomed its ugly head--out of her purse, of all places--and   
it was somewhat disturbing to imagine how many more centuries it would take to outrun it again.  
  
She pushed the thought aside. No, I'll be fine. By tomorrow, everything will be just the way   
that it was yesterday. Let's move on and be done with it.  
  
Critically, she inspected her drenched and soiled clothes. The white shirt was not worth   
saving, and well beyond help. The black skirt had quite a mud stain on the rear, and was   
frayed at the hem where some overly friendly rose bushes had snatched onto it, but she was   
sure that with a little creativity she could fix it up again. She glanced at the digital   
alarm clock beside her bed. Red lights in the shape of a one and two zeros shone on the black   
face. Resigning herself to the task, she scooped the skirt up and headed for the door.  
  
As she took a step, a small object slid from the article's pocket. It descended towards the   
ground, turning and spinning as it went, and clattered onto the softwood floor.  
  
The sound did not register in her mind at first, and she continued walking. As Setsuna neared   
her bedroom door, however, something else did catch her attention. The light cast against the   
walls of her bedroom turned to a soft purplish glow for a few moments, before fading back to the   
ordinary pinkish white light cast by the lamp by her bed. She stopped, wondering whether it had   
been her imagination. When the glow returned, she glanced back at her lamp, which remained the   
same color. It faded and returned a third time before she discovered the source.  
  
There it was again. That same ugly head. The stone key sat quite contentedly on the floor as   
if it belonged there, pulsating with a violet aura.  
  
"Why can't you leave me alone?" She asked dully. It replied by glowing again.  
  
That was when she heard it. A voice sounded, echoing as though from a great distance,   
something like a whisper, or a scream, or both. At first she could not understand what it was   
saying, but as she listened two words became bone-chillingly clear. "Princess... Pluto!" The   
key, the sound, the words, all sent an icy jolt of fear through her stomach, but none more than   
the final revelation that dawned upon her. She recognized that voice.  
  
Something more was happening now. Mist had begun to form around herself and the key. She could   
barely see the walls, or anything else for that matter. It barely seemed like her own house   
anymore. Some large THING was fabricating before her, filling her bedroom from floor to   
ceiling. Its shadowy form loomed above her, and even after she recognized it for what it was,   
her sense of forboding remained.   
  
It was a door. Plain and simple. But more than that, it was a behemoth, an impenetrable gate  
beyond which lay a world of undefineable power, infinite possibilities, and most of all,   
eternal solitude. Every detail of its intricate carvings had been etched into Setsuna's mind,   
but she had no desire to see it again. It was, without a doubt, the Space-Time Door.  
  
With a deep groan that caused the very ground to shudder, the door gradually began to open of   
its own accord. That same purple light shone out from the doorway, nearly blinding her. She   
felt a tug at her heartstrings, the same feeling that stirred within her from the very moment   
she first sighted the key. Go on. What could it hurt? There's something waiting for you there.   
Will you run again? Or will you face it?  
  
Tentatively, she knelt next to the key. Just pick it up. Take it, it's not going anywhere.   
It's just a key, right?  
  
Just a key.  
  
As her fingers brushed against its smooth surface, her entire body went cold. The floor   
seemed to drop from beneath her legs, a whirling vertigo of the winds of the Underworld   
whipping around her, threatening to tear her to shreds. It clamped around her throat, pulled   
at her limbs, helplessly tossing her about within her own element. She had no breath to scream,   
no strength to move. At last giving up the struggle against the overwhelming force that held   
her deep within its jaws, her numbed mind faintly heard a voice.  
  
"I WON'T LET YOU HAVE HER!"  
  
The turmoil ended as quickly as it had begun, and as Setsuna felt herself hit solid ground, her   
mind slipped from consciousness.  
  
************  
¹Odango, or Japanese dumplings, are a common treat that can be bought barbecued at festivals   
and such. Since they are simple and filling, they're quite popular.  
  
²Since living conditions are so cramped in Japan, people are seldom able to have pets. Thus,   
it has become popular to rent a dog for the day and walk it or take it to the park with   
your family. 


	3. Hour 2

Kodoku no Fortress  
  
Hour II  
  
By Spirit-hime  
  
************  
  
"Greetings Princess Pluto!"  
  
The young girl nodded at the tiny likeness of herself as she stepped between the massive pillars   
of Charon Palace¹. The fairy-like Guardian Pluto hovered near her Princess' head, sparkling   
cheerfully. "Did you have a good time at the Moon Kingdom? What did the Queen wish to tell you?"   
  
"She wanted me to take over my task as the guardian of the Space-Time Gate. She laid down the   
laws for me."  
  
"So it is as we thought. You will make the Moon Kingdom proud, Princess Pluto! Your visitor   
seemed to think so as well."  
  
She paused. "Visitor? Here?"  
  
"Yes, didn't you know? He's been waiting in the throne room."  
  
The short princess picked up her step. A visitor? No one ever came to Charon Palace, not even   
the other Plutonians. Excitement and nervousness rushed at her all at once. Who could it be?   
Someone important? Her hands touched upon the doors to the massive throne room. As they   
swung open, however, her excitement dissolved into disgust.  
  
A figure sat draped across her seldom-used throne, one leg propped up on the arm, one elbow   
leaning against the back. He was older than Pluto, though probably no more than fifteen.   
His short-cropped hair was nevertheless disheveled, and the dark dusty-green tint that it   
held would have given it the appearance of some sort of plant growth upon his head, had it   
not been for the white skunk-like stripe down the center. His sleeveless jacket, which cut   
off just above the naval in the front, draped down to his calves in the back. Black buttons   
held it clasped across his chest, but it remained open in front of his neck, where a high   
collar nearly brushed his greenish locks. A fingerless glove covered the length of his forearms   
to just below the elbows. Starting at the wrist, criss-crossing laces extended up the backs   
of the arms, tying at the ends of the gloves. Both jacket and gloves were of a light   
dusty purple color that was especially set off by the black pants and military-style boots he   
wore.  
  
In one hand he twirled a long heavy staff that appeared to be like a double-ended oar,   
with one sharpened blade on each end. It was made of a dark stone-like material, with   
intricate carvings in the handle.  
  
"You ought to have some respect, prince of Charon!" The Plutonian princess spat.  
  
His eyes, two chunks of pitch-black coal, gazed at her with amusement. "And greetings to you   
too, Princess. I trust that you had a good journey?"  
  
"Spare me your annoying sarcasm. To what do I owe this unwelcome visit?"  
  
"Ah, you clearly mistake my intentions good Princess. I merely thought that since we shall be   
working together..."  
  
"What?!"  
  
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Why, didn't Queen Serenity tell you? Oh, I suppose she was too   
busy listing those awful taboos to mention it. The Space-Time Gate guardian and the Space-Time   
ferryman must coexist in the same world, in which no other living being exists. Thus, we   
not only work together on a constant basis, we must live together."  
  
Pluto threw a questioning glance at the guardian fairy, who looked back at her apologetically.   
"I am afraid he is right, Princess. I had assumed you knew it already. The duty of a   
guardian of the Space-Time Gate extends only as far as protecting it and preventing the three   
taboos from being broken. However, the duty of the ferryman is to safely escort those who   
are allowed passage through the Underworld."  
  
"...For a small fee, of course," Charon chirped pleasantly.  
  
"Therefore," Guardian Pluto continued, "even though their tasks are different, their objectives   
are the same. Those objectives are to maintain the safety of the Silver Millenium by   
controlling and protecting the portals of time. But forgive me, you know this much already."  
  
Pluto put her head in her hands. This had been turning out to be such a good day, too. "Let me   
get this straight. I have to spend all of eternity with this arrogant testosterone-driven   
imbecile?"  
  
"That is correct."  
  
Charon flashed her a grin. "And ya can't kill me either! Aren't you excited?"  
  
  
-"--'--3  
  
  
"You must be joking."  
  
"C'mon, we've been doing nothing for years. You can't tell me you have anything better to do."  
  
Pluto eyed her detested companion skeptically. It was true, they were bored out of their skulls.   
While the palaces on both Pluto and Charon were usually vacant, they at least had some ways   
to amuse themselves. Here in the Underworld, time passed differently, if, of course, it passed   
at all. A couple years seemed like nothing more than several days. The two knew that time   
was passing only because they sensed it. However, even in a place like this things could   
become dull, and anything would be better than this annoying creature's cheesy jokes.  
  
But... chess? She knew very little about the game, certainly not enough to play it. She hated   
the idea of letting him teach her anything.  
  
"Unless, of course, you don't know how to play?" His devious smile told her that admitting   
to such would give him something to gloat over for the next few centuries. The very thought   
of that was almost more than the Hades princess could bare. "You're on."  
  
They chose an appropriate area in Space-Time, a place in which cold marble floors supported   
massive stone pillars that ascended into the sky, where they were lost in the misty depths. In   
the distance, thousands of other pillars could be seen, fading into the violet fog. They   
had spent much of their time here, as it was close to their own time and generally safe from   
the Winds of Hades.  
  
"White or black?"  
  
"I... um... black," she blurted. As they set the board on the floor and emptied the pieces   
from the ebony box, she realized with a hint of relief that he was asking what color chess   
pieces. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all. She could BS her way through the whole game   
if she wanted. Heck, she could probably beat him, considering his mental capabilities.  
  
While she pretended to organize her pieces, Pluto watched Charon set up his white ones on the   
board through the corner of her eye. He set the tallest one--the one with the little cross  
thingie--in the right corner. Expertly he began to line the others up after it, in descending   
order of height. When the back row was filled up with horses, castles, and things with pointy   
hats, the short ones with the round nobby things were set in the second row. The young girl   
quickly did the same, making sure that all the horses were facing the right direction, just for   
good measure.  
  
"Ladies first," he replied, with an arrogant toss of the head.  
  
Pluto stared hard at the board, as though her level of concentration could provide some answers   
as to what to do. Well, she mused, there are a bunch of little pieces in the front row, and   
they're all on black and white squares. Maybe I just put one on a different square? Yeah,   
that's gotta be it. Yessiree. She reached out and delicately slid a pawn onto the next   
square in front of it. Inwardly she rejoiced when Charon mimicked her move.  
  
The game continued in silence, the monochromatic pieces each moving forward one step at a   
time. The distant Winds of Hades added their climactic melodies to the tedious game, until   
at last the stillness was broken by a shriek of protest.  
  
"You can't do that!"  
  
"I can and I did. It's just a castle, you have plenty more pieces."  
  
"But... but..." The princess huffed resignedly. No one had said anything about taking   
other people's pieces. Alright then, if that's how it's played, that is what he's going   
to get.  
  
Chess pieces piled up on either side of the board. Neither seemed as eager to win as they   
were to capture soldiers. The kings grew lonely as one by one their servants fell from   
the checkered board.  
  
Charon watched impatiently as his opponant methodically chose her next move. "Just go already."  
  
"Why are you so impatient? You have to plan ahead if you want to win. That means looking   
at every possible solution."  
  
"No you don't. Just make a move and leave the rest up to chance."  
  
"I don't believe in chance. With a million possible futures ahead of you, why let just   
any of them happen? You have to carefully weigh your decisions and plan ahead."  
  
"But if its destiny, which you seem to think so highly of, then what would it matter what you   
decide? The outcome will still be the same."  
  
She knew he was right on one account. True, she did believe in destiny. But she also knew that   
it was not as simple as that, and Pluto was determined to prove this airhead wrong. "Destiny   
is merely the strongest path in time. That isn't to say that you can't turn away from that   
path, whether intentionally or not. Sometimes you can turn back again, but often you cannot.   
So even though I may be destined to win this game, that isn't to say that I can't screw it up   
and lose anyway. You get it?"  
  
"Hmm... nope."  
  
"You're hopeless."  
  
"So is this game if you don't hurry up."  
  
The princess of time made her move, and consequently lost a knight. The two of them studied   
the board for a moment, before reaching the same conclusion. "If I move my king, you'll take   
it," Pluto muttered indignantly.  
  
"Likewise for mine."  
  
"So what do we do? Neither of us can move."  
  
"We'll call it a draw."  
  
"That doesn't work. Someone has to win."  
  
"Alright then." With a boyish grin, Charon pulled a small gold object from his pocket. "Let's  
flip a coin."  
  
"We can't do that."  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"Because... because it's not right, that's why. Because it's just you making your decisions   
based on what some inanimate object says. Because something as important as whether you win or   
lose is decided entirely by one little coin toss. And because it's..."  
  
"Not destiny?"  
  
"Exactly! Why must you take everything so lightly?"  
  
"Because if it's gonna happen anyway, just let it happen. Don't sweat every little decision in   
life. It'll give you wrinkles. And we wouldn't want those messing up your pretty little   
complexion, now would we?" He gave her a little wink. Pluto repressed the urge to slap him.   
"Besides, do you have any other ideas?"  
  
She let out a defeated sigh before shaking her head.   
  
"Right, then." He flicked his thumb upwards, launching the coin into the endlessness above. It   
flipped in midair, the golden surface shining as it drifted through space. And something...   
something that for one instant was illuminated as brightly as that distant ball of light   
they called the sun, something that glistened with all the force of the wandering   
stars that gazed down upon their insignificant lives... for a single instant that something could   
be seen reflected from the smooth golden surface. Then, like a mirage, it again vanished.  
  
"Call it."  
  
  
-"--'--3  
  
  
With a barely audible "whoosh" the coal grey blade sliced the air within inches of her   
face. She could feel the rush of wind brush against her skin, forcing her to suppress a shiver   
that threatened to quake through her back and down across her bare legs. Garnet hair whipped   
behind her as she spun, bringing a long slender staff up to block. Sparks flew as the two   
weapons collided, creating a brilliant fireworks desplay between the dueling bodies. The bladed   
staff struck again, driving her backwards. Gloved hands expertly carried the giant key, using   
every milligram, every facet of its smooth surface, to her advantage. She was pushed backwards   
another step, her back nearly up against a stone pillar as wide as a house. She was at a   
disadvantage when her space was limited, a fact that both opponents were aware of.  
  
The blade came at her again, but instead of blocking she rolled out of the way, using the   
pillar to her advantage. Slamming the stone oar against the column, the unexpected jolt stunned   
her adversary for barely a moment. But a moment was all she needed.  
  
A swift undercut to the back of the knee floored him. The toe of her boot caught the oar   
and kicked it up out of his hands, where it came to rest in her outstretched palm. He lay   
sprawled on the floor, staring up the length of the two weapons that were pointed inches   
from his nose. The victor stood above him, one foot on each side of his heaving chest, one   
tremendously heavy staff in each hand. Her dark skin shone with the sweat of her efforts beneath   
the black and white short-skirted sera fuku. Her scarlet eyes sparkled with pride in her   
victory. Sailor Pluto had become quite a young woman over the centuries, both tall and   
beautiful. At last she had grown into the Time Key that she bore, giving her a sense of power   
and grace beneath her dark beauty.  
  
"Checkmate."  
  
"Only because I let you win."  
  
Pluto's deep red lips turned up into a small smirk. "Then why are you so tired?"  
  
"Because I could use a good workout. And besides that, I think my current position is the   
best victory of all. There's quite a good view from down here." He earned a half-hearted   
kick to the ribs for that one. Sure, she had grown used to his mildly perverted comments, but   
that did not mean she had to put up with them.  
  
The princess slid to the floor beside Charon, and the two leaned up against the pillar,   
welcoming the break. In all actuality, the fact that she had won had nothing to do with   
skill; it truly was blind luck. While the powers given to her by the ninth planet were   
significantly greater than his, Charon's abilities with his oar were certainly nothing to be   
trifled with. Pluto glanced up at the boy--well, man--who now sat hunched next to her.   
He had certainly grown up over the years. He was only a few inches taller than she, but that   
was more than enough. His broad shoulders were somewhat of an advantage in combat, as were his   
muscular arms. Green and white hair flopped in his face. Coal black eyes sparkled with a   
depth that could not be altogether seen.  
  
It had been centuries since they were first brought together by that force called destiny. Even   
as they grew up together, their competetiveness and biting jokes remained. It took the   
princess a long time to discover what he already knew, that maybe there was more to their   
relationship than that of coworkers. Maybe even more than comrades.  
  
Pluto's thoughts were broken by a large sweaty body flopping down on her lap. "Oi! Do I look   
like a pillow to you?!" She made an attempt at shoving him off, but he refused to budge.  
  
"You're soft and cuddly like one," he mumbled, his head resting on her thigh. "And you owe me   
after beating me up like that, you meanie."  
  
"Baka! Get off!" She struggled to get out from under him, but his arms were wrapped firmly   
around her legs. With a dejected sigh, she gave up, too exhausted to fight any longer. "You're   
such a pain, ya know that? I've got half a mind to Dead Scream you off of me."  
  
Charon was not listening. His eyes were no longer open, his breathing had become slow and   
rhythmic. Though she knew no one could possibly be watching, Pluto still did her best to   
suppress the tiny smile that began to creep onto her face. She leaned forward, laying her   
head against the side of his broad back. The dusty purple fabric of his shirt brushed lightly   
against her cheek. She slid one arm down across his chest, feeling it rise and fall with   
each breath. Her eyes began to close as she drew close to his ear, from which hung   
a tiny black spiral earring, and whispered, "baka."  
  
If someone had been nearby, they might have seen two forms slumped on the floor, tangled in   
a heap of purple fabric and green hair. They might have seen two human beings who had   
been together for eternity and a moment. They might have seen a couple that was more deeply   
in love than either of them realized.  
  
But no one would have been nearby to see these things. Because no one ever was.  
  
************  
¹Charon Palace is the name of the palace on Pluto. The name does not refer to a palace on   
Charon. 


	4. Hour 2:30

Kodoku no Fortress: Hour 2:30 Kodoku no Fortress 

Hour 2:30 

By Spirit-hime 

************ 

Author's Note: This was originally going to be a part of Hour II, however given that Hour II was growing way too long, I split it up into two parts. I apologise for not adding it BEFORE I uploaded Hour III, but apparently I forgot to, because I just discovered that it's not up. ^_^;;; My sincerest apologies to all readers. On the bright side, its lack of existance really didn't interrupt the flow of the story, being that it's just more memories of the past. However, I couldn't allow it to remain missing, as certain things that happen here will pop up later. Anyway, here's to my screwing up! XD 

-"--'--{3 

Pluto stood on the edge of oblivion. Well, not quite oblivion, as the depths of the ravine had to lead SOMEWHERE. Though as she stood poised at the edge of a never-ending cliff, she was certain that she did not want to find out just where it lead. Above her, dark clouds churned and swirled, perpetually creating new patterns in various shades of grey. The Winds were icy against her exposed skin, but she seemed not to notice as she gazed out upon the barren emptiness, where more clouds, more cliffs, and more dull grey matter awaited her. 

A pair of warm arms slid around her waist. She leaned into them, reveling in the feeling of having another human being close by. But although her body welcomed the soft warmth, her troubled eyes continued to gaze out across the vastness. 

"What's wrong?" As he spoke, Charon's mouth was so close to her ear that she felt the soft breath against her cheek, sending a subtle tingle through her skin. 

"Nothing." A lie. 

"C'mon, you really think I believe that after you've been moping around here all day?" 

"We don't have days, remember? Lack of time flow and all that." 

"You know what I mean. What's been bugging you?" 

"I... it's stupid." 

"I doubt that." 

She hesitated a moment before rounding to face him, fixing him squarely with her deep red gaze. "Do you... I mean... have you ever seen flowers before, Charon? Real ones?" 

A hint of relief filled her when he did not laugh. Instead he looked at her thoughtfully. "I think I've had a picture book with some in it. They were rather strange looking, actually. All those pointy parts sticking out." 

She sighed a deflating sigh. "Exactly," she stated, as though this confirmed some silent argument that he was not aware of. Suddenly the ground seemed profoundly interesting. "I just... I dunno Charon, I want to SEE them! I want to see color other than grey and black! I want to smell something other than dust that is older than time itself! I want to hold onto something that doesn't last forever! I... I guess it's shallow of me to think about such things when we're here protecting the greatest secret in the universe. But I... I just..." 

Her words faded into a slow gasp as his lips brushed hers. She leaned into the kiss, submitting to a flood of emotion that spilled out in the form of crystaline tears. The monochromatic world around her vanished. All that mattered was that kiss. That kiss and those arms that held her still, that held back the cold emptiness. She felt as though she would collapse. Both leaned against one another, if only in an effort to remain standing. 

It never ended. It ended too soon. The world remained spinning, yet abruptly righted itself. It was faded and yet more vivid than ever. She looked into his coal-black eyes, wanting only to dive ever deeper into that warm darkness. He gazed down at her, so content merely to look upon her face. He put a hand to her cheek, carefully wiping tears from her soft skin. "You're so beautiful. Never cry. Tears don't become you." 

-"--'--{3 

Sailor Pluto stood in the pillared area of the Underworld. At her feet was a current ongoing game of chess, the pawns and knights armed for battle. Anxiously, she wrung her hands. She had good reason to be worried, or she thought so anyway. She had not seen Charon in a while. In fact, it had been quite a long time since she last saw him. And this was not good. No, not good in the least. Namely because the Underworld just is not a good place to lose someone in. So she searched. She searched, and her worry grew. He can't be missing, he could not have gone far. Where would he be? Just a million and one alternate timelines, that's where he'd be. Frantically, she turned her head in either direction, as though he might be behind some pillar somewhere, lost in the distant fog. 

Now calm down, girl. What can you use to find Charon when you lose him? 

The Time Keys, that's what. 

They were ingenius little inventions, really. Right up there with the Space Sword. These were not the trinkets that Pluto wore on a chain around her waist. Oh no, these were much more. Pluto herself used a very large one; in fact, it was more of a staff. On the top was the Garnet Orb, the sacred jewel that was one of the three special Talismans. The long shaft that extended down from the orb held many intricate pieces, which gave it the appearance of an oversized key. Charon did not carry a Talisman, exactly, but his own item was nevertheless invaluable to his task and, indeed, his very life. It was not quite so impressive as Pluto's key; in fact, its size was closer to that of a regular skeleton key. It was black, not black like ebony, but black like smoke, so that it appeared tarnished. But in fact, it was crafted not of metal, but of some hard black stone. In the top was a tiny dark red jewel, very much like a miniature replica of the Orb itself. 

These two keys--both great and small--had various purposes. Pluto's staff could perform such tricks as opening and sealing the Space-Time Door, manipulating (to an extent) the Winds of Hades, and even stopping time. Charon's key was slightly different. It could do nothing to the Door, but it could ensure safe passage through time once that Door was opened. It could also perform a limited amount of manipulation of the Winds of Hades, though not nearly as well as its larger counterpart. But--and this is where they came in handy at the moment--both were also capable of tracking one another. The keys were connected--not quite like a telephone, exactly, but it was somewhat of the same idea. 

She immediately calmed down, realizing how foolish she was for not thinking of such an obvious solution sooner. Her hand strayed to the Garnet Orb at the top of her staff, which in turn warmly washed its reddish glow across the face of its companion. She closed her eyes, listening without her ears to the voice of the jewel, that which was both weapon and comrade, as much an extension of her own body as the hand that touched it. It whispered to her, in a voice so fleeting that if one listened too hard they would lose it. 

This way. 

Pluto followed its guidence for some time before her concern began to grow. She was being led farther and farther from the area of Time-Space that was familiar. The Winds were turning stronger, ancient and unyielding in their journey through the passages of time. It was becoming harder to move now, harder to press on without being swept away to some distant corner of the continuum. The Winds of Hades were fierce, biting, intertwined with time itself. It was all the princess could do to maintain a shield around herself, as they lifted into a frenzied kamikaze, strong enough to dissolve mountains, to crush stars. That was where she found him, amidst the typhoon. 

The Winds had found him too, and they were none too amused. Out of the way, they cried, pushing him down with all their heartless, soulless might. Move or be moved. 

And moved he was. Charon lay curled in a fetal position, his head buried beneath his arm in a desperate attempt to hide from the unyielding tempest. He clutched his oar-like staff beneath him, as though the weight of his own body could prevent it from being carried off. Something else was also protectively held close to his chest. Something she could not see. 

The soldier wasted no time. She lifted the Time Key high over her head, power and adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her hair was barely disturbed by the Wind as she gripped her staff in both hands and, without so much as a word, comanded the Winds to fly elsewhere. Slowly, grudgingly, they moved aside, redirecting their paths to other destinies, other roads. What they left behind was silence. Silence and, if one listened closely, the sound of ragged, uneasy breathing. 

He was somewhat battered, to put it mildly. One very good reason for the existance of the Space-Time guardians was the fact that it was not uncommon for some foolish wanderer to get themselves killed. He was still shaking when she knelt, pulled him close, and wrapped her arms around him, laying his head against her shoulder. Though his eyes did not open, he leaned into her neck, burying his face in her greenish hair like a distraught child. The sum of Pluto's fear and anxiety boiled into anger, and before she could control it she found herself blurting out in a voice that shook with emotion, "What the hell do you think you're doing out here?! Do you have any idea what kind of danger you were in? No one should mess with the Winds, not even you! Why Charon? Why..." 

Then she saw it. She saw what he had been protecting so desperately. It was so perfect, so very ALIVE that it had no place in this world of past and future. Clutched tightly in his hand sat a perfect rose, just beginning to unfurl itself from the winding layers of its own delicate petals. Its color was dusty purple, the color of dusk, just after the clouds have been washed pink by the waning light and before darkness truly sets in. Her fingers brushed the petals, almost too afraid to touch something so exquisite. Tears streamed down her face as she again uttered, "why..." 

"You said that... it was what you wanted," he whispered in between struggled breaths. 

"You... baka! Don't you know that you're more important than a million flowers?! Don't you know that I would die if I lost you? You're all I really want. You're all I've ever wanted." 

She gripped him tighter, as though her arms could absorb the pain from his body. "Never forget that Charon," she breathed, "don't ever forget!" 

-"--'--{3 

Roses, she discovered, have thorns. Though she did not yet know what the names of these pointy little buggers were, she was soon made aware of the fact that they are both dangerous and painful. In fact, this probably helped explain half the cuts on Charon's arms and hands. However, dangerous weapon or not, it was by far the most intriguing object that Princess Pluto had ever seen, and the amount of attention she paid the purplish flower was second only to the one who had brought it. 

In her concern for his condition, the sailor soldier had not thought twice about bringing him back to Charon Palace on her home planet. Sure, leaving the Gates of Time is one of the three taboos she must never break, but Charon had already managed to break a second by crossing time. One broken rule deserves another, right? Right. 

At a complete loss for what to put the sharp-pointy-pretty-thing into, she settled for an empty mayonnaise jar. While it lacked the beauty of a real vase, it did a splendid job of holding the rose upright in it's little pool of water, which was exactly the job that was necessary in this kind of situation. The flower bloomed in all its magnificent glory, nobly standing in the former location of raw egg yolk. 

Pluto shook her head. That was certainly a pleasant thought. Her eyes strayed to the clock sitting in the corner. It was a beautifully crafted thing, standing a good two feet tall and wrought of some sort of heavy copperish metal. Its form folded into flours and leaves, twisting into the finest detail around the mute white face, upon which the hours were counted out in roman numerals. The short hand pointed at what appeared to be two capital I's next to one another. 

He had been asleep for several hours now, and the princess could not stand it. Every time she began to doze off in the dark red armchair in her bedroom, she would suddenly wonder whether she had bandaged his wounds properly, whether he might be too hot or too cold, whether he would wake up, or worse--what if he didn't? And the moment those thoughts crept into her brain, she would be on her feet again, wide-eyed and alert. She fussed over him, returning to the bed on which he lay every five minutes merely to putter around for a while, before again retreating to her chair to wait. Some of these times she was a little more conspicuous than she should have been, dropping things on the floor or turning on a lamp just above his head, secretly hoping that SOMETHING would wake him up. 

But he never stirred. 

The dark princess heaved a sigh, bending to pick up the tray of newly-spilled bandages. He's like a log, she thought. A big gorgeous green-haired log. With nice shoulders. Oh no, we can't forget those. 

As she straightened, she let out a great yelp, once again sending the items crashing to the floor. For at that moment, an arm had wrapped around her waist and yanked her onto the bed, where she came to rest sprawled across the chest of her beloved. As she stared down into a pair of black irises, she thought the world would melt. "How long have you been awake?" She gasped, trying to writhe out of the grasp that held her against his bare chest (which, she thought, was not such a bad place to be, all things considered). 

"Long enough to see you bend over in that lovely black dress of yours," he replied with a grin. 

"You've been asleep for hours. If I'd known all it took to wake you was my rear end, I would have bent over a long time ago." 

"It's the greatest cure in the world. I'm sure the surgeon general¹ would prescribe it." 

The exchange was amusing while it lasted, but the young woman's expression soon faltered, and the color of her eyes shifted slightly so that they were two seas of crimson. "You really had me worried, you know." The statement hung in the air, turning stale as it lingered amongst a thick smog of half-expressed emotions. When the silence refused to be broken, she babbled on aimlessly, in hopes of at least pushing it into the background. "You... you got me thinking about what I would do if you weren't here. It's stupid, I know, thinking about "what ifs" all the time like some paranoid mother. But I... didn't really have anything better to do while I was waiting for you." 

There was another pause. One that was slightly easier to breathe in. After a time he replied, "So what would you do?" 

She gave him a soft smile, laying her head upon his shoulder. He nuzzled his face in her hair as she gave a small sigh, brushing her hand across the side of his neck. "I don't know. I never got that far. 

And I don't want to." 

************ 

¹At first glance this statement might be seen as anachronistic, but really, these people live outside of time. It would be impossible to make an anachronism here. Thus, I can make all the modern references I want. XD 


	5. Hour 3

Kodoku no Fortress 

Hour III 

By Spirit-hime 

************ 

Setsuna's head hurt. That was her first thought when she woke up. The second was that she was cold. Idiot, she thought. Why did I go to bed before letting my hair dry? She reached for the glass of water by her bed, but her hand met something hard and jagged. In confusion she opened her eyes slightly. The world that met her was not her bedroom. In fact, she was pretty sure that she had never seen any place like this before. 

The sky above was a dismal grey, nothing of interest. However, what did catch her attention were the massive rocks that seemed to rise out of the earth at odd angles, as though they had grown there. Indeed, when she inspected one nearby, it almost took on the appearance of an ancient, twisting tree. The ground beneath her was quite similar, solid and unyielding. Though it appeared no different than any ordinary stone she'd seen, it had an unusual solidness to it, as if time itself could not grind it away. 

She was still lying there, trying to adjust to her surroundings, when the heavy sound of steel-toed boots struck the ground just above her head. She stared, wide-eyed with surprise, at the two figures that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and were now looming above her with a menacing gleam in their eyes. "Well now. What have we got here?" 

The one who spoke was male. That much, at least, she could tell from her current position. He was quite tall (or at least seemed that way from the perspective of his feet), and was wearing a military uniform the same color as his surroundings. His hair was of white satin that seemed too perfect for the dismal atmosphere, and his grey eyes neither reflected light nor gave any of its own. Indeed, the coldness of his gaze was matched only by his companion, a shorter woman with striking cobalt hair that reached just past her ears. Her uniform almost resembled his, if not for the short blue skirt she wore in place of pants. 

Setsuna felt about an inch tall. She feared the man, but she feared the woman more. Because the woman's face was both familiar and foreign to her. Because she saw both a friend and a stranger. "Ami-chan..." she whispered. 

"Another rebel?" He asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and passiveness. 

"Not likely. Looks like someone abandoned her here. And they call us barbarians." 

"Aren't we?" 

The Ami-lookalike smirked at the comment. "Only when we want to be. You," here she looked at Setsuna. "What's your name? Speak up!" 

At a loss for what else to do, she quietly replied, "Setsuna." 

"And what are you doing here?" 

"I... I don't know." 

Ami gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well, we could kill her here or we could bring her back. I'd prefer the former, but we both know what happened last time we killed someone we weren't supposed to." 

The other shuddered at the thought. "I doubt she's worth much anyway, but it's better to be safe, I suppose. Stand up," he ordered. Setsuna obeyed, though not without some effort. Why did her body ache so much? She tried to think back, to remember what had happened, but her memories were faded and jumbled. There was something... something that was on her bedroom floor... 

The three began their march across the dismal terrain--Setsuna struggling along as best as she could with her bare feet. Note to self, she thought, never travel through time without the proper clothing. She was pretty sure by now that that was what she'd done. Time was a boundless force: it was not composed of a single string of events, but by a myriad of choices, directions, and possibilities. This, she expected, was a choice gone wrong. Just another alternate universe that may have come true, had things gone differently. But how she had gotten here, and how she had ended up time traveling in the first place, was beyond her. 

Still, it was reassuring to know that it was through a power that she could control. At least, she hoped she could control it. The thought of passing through the Gates of Time brought a shudder she could not quite explain. 

As they plodded on, the clouds above began to clear. Close to the horizon, she could see the Moon rising in an open space between earth and cloud, rolling against a platinum sky. There was something wrong with it. It seemed... darker, somehow, and more scarred with craters. In fact, some were so massive that they seemed to throw off the shape a little bit, so that the sides sank in at places. What had once formed the image of a rabbit was now faded and mutilated, as though the poor thing had been the victim of a hunter's shotgun. Most notably, one of the largest craters, Mare Serenitatis, was nowhere to be seen. 

"Why does the Moon look like that?" She asked the man, hoping to take her mind off of Ami's glacial gaze, which was currently burning holes in the back of her head. 

He threw her a strange glance. "You don't know much of anything, do you?" 

"I'm not from around here." 

"Apparently not. If what you mean is why is the Moon half-destroyed, well, that's rather obvious. That's what happened during the Great War, when Earth marched on the Moon Kingdom. If you're wondering why it still shines, well, your guess is as good as mine." 

"We suspect she's still up there, that damned princess," Ami continued. "Right along with the rest of the rebels. Some of them exist down here too, but we've stamped most of them out." 

"Some say there are parts of this planet that Metallia has not yet touched. Parts that still grow green, that aren't turned to stone. But those are mere legends. Metallia is all-powerful. Her reign here on Earth is absolute." 

Setsuna stole a glance at some of the tree-like stones around her. Perhaps they really had been trees at one point in time. After a moment she asked, "Where are you taking me?" 

"To the Black King. He'll decide what is to be done with you." Being that this was about as explanatory as a VCR operation manual, she decided that she would be better off if she shut up for a while. 

The trio walked the rest of the way in silence. Ahead of them lay a place that seemed overcast with shadow, surrounded by great boulders that reminded her slightly of Easter Island. A very twisted, dismal Easter Island. Dusk had fallen by the time they arrived there, though it may have merely been the shadows creating the illusion of darkness. Setsuna soon found that the great stone structures were merely a small part of the overall place. Soon beyond them the ground abruptly began to sink downward, as though they rested upon the lip of a wide vally or unusually placed crater. At the bottom, so large that it nearly filled the entire space, was (for lack of a better term) a castle. Like everything else around here, it appeared dark and forboding, and not exactly a place where one would like to spend the holidays. 

The inside was no better. It stank of mold and death. The floor was like ice against her feet. Everything echoed down the stone hallways, far beyond their source, bringing sounds like the whispering of the dead. It was like being inside a large tomb, with snakelike twists and turns that seemed to descend deeper into the solid stone earth. As they rounded a corner, Setsuna began to hear shouting. The sound continued to grow until they reached an open doorway. Both of her escorts hesitated just beyond the opening, as if fearing what lay inside. They exchanged a glance, in which Ami gave a small, triumphant smirk and whispered, "your turn." The other one sighed, seemed to brace himself for a moment, and--much to her surprise--shoved Setsuna in first. 

After the darkness of the hallways, it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the light. Once they did, however, she wished they had not. The room was spacious, with massive ornate pillars supporting the lofty ceiling. She could identify no light source, although candles lined some of the walls. At the far end of the room sat a throne, at which two women knelt devotedly, cooing and nuzzling their heads against the arm-rests, like oversized felines in the presence of delectable blooms of catnip. The first had hair of red, falling in waves around her bare shoulders. Her deep purple eyes gazed at the man upon the throne with such a level of lustful adoration that Setsuna had to turn away in disgust. The second, Setsuna realized after a moment, was not female at all. He had a mane of blonde hair that was tied back loosely into a long ponytail, and sparkling green eyes that shone like emeralds. He did not share his counterpart's level of intensity; content instead to simply rest his head upon his master's lap. 

Despite their best--or rather worst intentions--the one who sat on the throne acknowledged neither of them, but instead allowed his dark stare to rest upon the newcomers. His eyes, the empty vortexes that they were, were as black as his hair. And Setsuna's blood curdled when his name came to her lips. 

"Endymion." 

"You have the pleasure of knowing my name. Indulge me, if you would, so that I may know yours." It was not a question, and it was not a request. It was a command. Something about the look on his face gave Setsuna the impression he already had the answer... 

"Some people call me Meiou Setsuna," she said, one eyebrow lifting slightly. 

"What is your business here?" 

"He," Setsuna gestured at the white-haired man, who was trying his best to look innocent, "requested that I come. Other than that, I do not know why I am here." 

"Is that so, Kunzite?" His voice was soft and dangerous, like knives cloaked in silk. As he spoke, he rose slowly, gracefully, from his throne, much to the disappointment of the mistresses--er, mistress and other. 

His eyes darted briefly to her escort, who shifted uncomfortably beside her. "It's true, my lord. She appeared rather confused when we found her. She could of course be lying, but that's doubtful. Few are that brave, nor that foolish. This girl appears to be neither." 

The king's only response was a small grunt, at which he began to move towards Setsuna. He strode silently away from his throne, steel-tipped boots clacking noisily in the empty room. Clack, clack, clack, and in three lengthy strides he was towering over Setsuna. She heard her own hearbeat pounding noisily in her ears, but her cross crimson gaze never once left his face. She stood frozen, her heart in her throat. Behind him, she could see the two devotees glaring at her vehemently, enraged at this newcomer who distracted the attention of their master. "I do wonder," he said slitheringly. "Could she be lying? Perhaps she is one of the rebels from the south. Or perhaps she's of that bloody princess's rabble. Or even, something more?" 

His eyes were dark and forboding, probing her every movement, every expression. She wanted to slink away from them, to hide from the ominous face of one who so greatly resembled a friend. But her face revealed nothing, and her eyes only returned the cold stare. Go ahead and search me, your lordship. You'll never find what you're looking for. My henshin wand is well beyond your reach, my friend. 

It was only then that she happened to glance past his face. To look up at the wall behind the throne. Only then did she see the great stone clock embedded into the wall itself, towering angels of death carved into the stone. The hour hand pointed at the two. 

Funny, she thought. I thought it was earlier than that. 

And then she wasn't sure why she had thought that at all. How should she know what time it was? When was the last time she'd looked at a clock, anyway? An image hovered on the edge of her memory, taunting her with its elusiveness. Was it red numbers she had seen? Where? When? 

She tried to grasp it, but the thought was gone before she could harness its meaning, leaving her floundering in her own thoughts. 

The king was visibly annoyed by her distant manner. That's right, she thought, how dare I take my mind anywhere beyond your grasp. How dare I be so arrogant. 

"Think you're something special, do you?" 

"Among worms, even a rat may seem special." 

"And just whom are you comparing to a rat?" 

"Oh, no one, Your Majesty." Setsuna nearly spat the phrase out, but managed to remain impassive. 

"I don't like your tone much, loyal subject." 

"My loyalty most certainly doesn't reside with you." 

Kunzite raised an astonished eyebrow. 

Endymion leaned forward, lips as straight as a dagger. "Then with whom does it reside?" 

"Serenity, the White Moon Princess." 

"So, you're a traitor then?" 

"I am not the traitor here. I am just as loyal to my Princess as the day my Starseed was first graced with her presence. You, however, I seem to have lost esteem for." 

Before she could even blink, Endymion backhanded Setsuna across the face. He hit her with such force that her head spun, and she could not even hope to stay on her feet. When she tried to stand, the room did a backflip, and she was slammed onto the chilled tile. She could hear Endymion laughing at her. He kicked her in the ribs, and all the wind left her lungs. She could taste a trickle of blood crossing her lip. 

With contempt that made her skin crawl, Endymion said, "Get her out of my sight." 

There was the sound of a sword leaving its sheath. 

"No. Not on my clean floor. Do that somewhere else, Kunzite." 

Halfway in a daze, Setsuna was hauled to her feet. She allowed herself to be half-carried from the throne room, back into the darkness of the hallway. After a few paces, she began to regain her footing, but the man called Kunzite didn't lossen his grip on her. When they were well out of earshot, she could hear him hiss, "that was awfully foolish what you did back there, girl. You're fortunate he didn't rip your face off." 

She didn't say anything, just swallowed the taste of blood in the back of her throat. Nothing she said would effect this person, anyway. Instead she concentrated on a plan, bleak as that idea may be. She needed to find an opportunity to henshin without having an army of these freakish people crashing down on her. The two rounded a bend, and passed a pair of soldiers dressed much the same as Mercury. She shuddered. One of them had aqua hair. 

"Was that true what you said?" 

Setsuna's mind snapped back from her musings over the two soldiers, who had vanished into a doorway. "What?" 

"About your loyalties. You... you called her Serenity. No one here ever uses her real name. As if that very name could call her wrath down upon them. They fear her, you know. Most of them haven't even seen her. They think she's some kind of goddess." His expression softened, ever so slightly. "Perhaps she is." 

Setsuna's crimson eyes met his. For the first time, she noticed that there was a tinge of green in them. "I meant every word of it," she answered flatly. 

"Listen," his voice dropped, and their pace slowed. They were alone in the shadowed corridor, no one around to hear. "I know what you are. He doesn't yet, but he'll figure it out soon enough. Already he suspects." 

"Sorry, I can't say I know what you're talking about." 

"Yeah, alright. Enough playing dumb, Time Soldier. It's you who the princess described. The red-eyed warrior who fortold the coming of the true queen's reign. The one who told us about that... that thing that binds him. You were the one." 

Setsuna could only stare at him a moment. A couple dozen questions rushed through her mind all at once, and for a moment she tried to choose the one that wouldn't get her killed. Realizing that they were all pretty much equal in bad-ness, she settled on one that at least mildly sounded intellegent. "I'm sorry, um... I thought you're Endymion's servant? What's this about Serenity?" 

He gave a wry smile. "I serve Endymion, yes. But not that thing which binds him. You saw the darkness in his eyes. That wasn't the real Endymion speaking. Only the Moon Princess can release him from the very prison he created. You told us that." 

He looked as though he was going to say something more, but chattering erupted behind them. The two women had emerged from the room. Kunzite took Setsuna by the arm and hurried down the hallway. "Listen," he whispered, "I can get you out of here, but you'll have to make it to the Moon yourself. There's a passage leading out the back, and--" 

As they rounded another corner, the two had to stop short when they nearly collided with another female soldier. Her hair was golden, and unbelievably long. Her piercing blue eyes flashed between both of them with visible disdain. "Oi, where ya takin' that one, Kunz?" 

"My lady Venus, I was merely bringing this prisoner to the dungeons," he replied smoothly. Though his face showed no expression, Setsuna could feel the grip on her arm tighten. 

Venus snorted. "Heard from Mercury you got to bring her before the King. Looks like you're still standing, surprisingly enough." 

"Yes, well the King fortunately decided not to use knives this time." 

"I was on my way down there, actually," she said, although it was obvious she was not. "I need to speak to one of the guards. I suppose I can help you finish your job before you go off duty." 

"That's not really nec--" 

"Please, I insist!" She replied in a tone that told him he had little choice in the matter. 

The rest of the walk was all a blur to Setsuna, as the three trudged through the perpetual maze of stone and darkness. They shut her in a small cell, where the stone-coated bars on the door cast striped shadows across the floor. As he turned to go, Kunzite gave her a look that was probably meant to be some form of reassurance, but which she placed very little faith in. Now she was sitting with her back against the wall, listening to the rhythmic clunk of some unseen drop of water and the dry, raspy sound of the guard's breathing. 

It took her a moment to realize that the breathing was not coming from the guard. 

In the far corner was a pile of clothes or rags, or something of the sort, which had shown no sign of movement since she first entered, and had been initially dismissed as a harmless heap. Now she realized, with no small amount of horror, that this heap was, in fact, breathing. She watched it for a few moments, unsure of what to do. 

Well if I'm locked in a room with it, I'd rather find out sooner than later whether it wants to eat me, she thought with a cringe. 

Slowly, deliberately, she rose to her feet and began to tiptoe towards the corner. Once there, she momentarily considered kicking the thing, but knew that this probably was not the best idea. So she instead reached out to pull back the garment on the top of the pile. Just then it began to move. 

Setsuna had to fight very hard to keep from screaming. Instead she stood, frozen, as the thing began to pull back the layers of fabric that surrounded it. 

Eyes as black as pitch met hers. 

All thoughts of screaming fled from her mind. Instead she sank to the floor, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. Here, before her, was a face she had not seen in many centuries. 

A face which, until now, she thought had been completely obliterated. 

He produced a box of matches with the name "The Crystal Rose" scrawled in green lettering across the front, and struck one, momentarily illuminating both their pale faces in flickering orange light as he lit a hand-rolled cigarette. "What's with you," he asked through the pungent whisps of smoke. "You sick or somethin'?" And with that, gave her no more regard than he would have given any other stranger who had invaded his little corner of the cell. 

Setsuna's mind was reeling. Was this a dream? Or an illusion? Could it be a trick played upon her by that disgusting version of Endymion, or some ploy by the strange Minako? Or was it merely her own imagination, tricking her into seeing recognition in the face of a stranger? Was this real? Was he real? 

She couldn't stop staring at him, although she sensed his slight discomfort. Occassionally he glanced up at her--this strange woman who must surely be mad--only to see her dark crimson eyes riveted upon him. It was a shame, really. Once they lose their sanity, they don't last too long. 

Desperately, she searched for something to say, but the only sound she managed to produce was something close to "ummmm." Then, "I don't suppose I know you?" 

An eyebrow lifted slightly, as though she had suggested he grow horns and sing "Ave Maria" to the moon. "Not unless you've visited the prisons before." 

"Not terribly often," Setsuna replied. "At least, not in the world that I come from." 

"Must be a beautiful place, to produce something like you," he said, and the way his eyes sparkled when he said it... Setsuna swallowed hard to keep composure. In a flash, the sparkle was gone, and he was smirking behind his cigarette. She sighed softly - no, it had just been her imagination. That false Endymion was trying to toy with her. 

"So what brought you in here, anyway?" he drawled, inhaling the poisonous smoke. 

"The King didn't take much of a liking to me," Setsuna nearly spat out the word "king." This Endymion was not her King. 

The man coughed slightly, his coughs quickly turning to laughter. After a moment he replied, "No, I suppose not. There are few things in this world that his majesty takes a liking to. Least of all someone who won't put up with his threats." 

"Is that why you're here?" 

"Something like that." He took a final puff of the cigarette, his dull black eyes gazing at it thoughtfully. Charon never smoked, Setsuna thought whimsically. But then, Charon never sat around in a pile of old clothes that smell like mildew, either. A lot of things are different, she thought. You're seeing ghosts where there aren't any. 

Setsuna shook herself of these thoughts. It was no good to dwell, no good to bind herself to the past. 

As the man again reached into the folds of his tattered garments for another cigarette, an object came tumbling out, sliding down a fold of grungy burlap and landing on the stone floor with a muffled clunk. A flash of crimson caught Setsuna's eye. 

It was a small, dark greyish key. At first it seemed tarnished, but upon closer inspection one would find that it was not of metal, but of stone. In it was a single dark red jewel. The very color that was reflected in Setsuna's eyes. 

Memories came flooding back to her. The key. The key on her bedroom floor. The key in her purse. The key that belonged to someone she lost long ago. 

There was a violent flash of purple light, a sudden feeling of being tossed across a great chasm of time and space. 

And then nothing. 


	6. Hour 4

Kodoku no Fortress 

Hour IV 

By Spirit-hime 

************ 

Ethereal gardens. Gardens of crystal and roses. Gardens so rich with the pungent aroma of flowers of every color imaginable that it swept you up, embraced you in its thick blanket so that you grew giddy with the oppressive splendour of it all. It was beyond intoxicating. It was downright inebriating. 

She didn't know how long she had been standing there, drunk with the scents and dazzling lights that flared off of the towers of crystal, sending minute rainbows dappling across the lawn. A soft breeze stirred her dark green hair, bringing a sobering moment of fresh air from beyond the garden walls. She welcomed that moment, breathing it in for all it was worth. 

Above her, a crescent moon shone down from a velvet sky, casting its warm glow upon the crystalline buildings. There was the faint sound of music drifting on the breeze. 

Meiou Setsuna cast her crimson eyes around her. Crystal Tokyo, without a doubt. 

She could think of no logical reason as to why she was here, among the flowers outside the Crystal Palace. Nor could she understand why she was wearing a black satin gown that brushed her bare toes, high heels digging into the spongey lawn beneath them. Her mind felt as though it was stuffed with cotton, and the overwhelming smell of too many roses blooming in too close proximity certainly didn't help. 

"Puu! Puuuuuuuuuu, get in here!" 

Setsuna would have recognized that voice anywhere. A soft smile played across her face as she followed it to its source. Princess Small Lady Serenity stood at the top of a staircase leading into the Crystal Palace. Light trailed through the open door behind her, creating an angelic glow around her sugar-pink hair and gown. "There you are!" She cried, in a voice unbecoming a princess. "Would you get in here already? You're missing out on the fun!" 

"Do forgive me, Princess," Setsuna replied, easily slipping into her old role as the little girl's best friend. She mounted the stairs gracefully, joining her small friend, who was more than happy to take her hand and lead her into the awaiting ballroom. There they were met with a flurry of gowns of all colors, shapes, and sizes, prancing across the dance floor and gossiping in misshapen circles. If there was any difference between the many gowns of the women and those of the flowers outside, it was only that the flowers had the courtesy to stay still. Instead, the crowd boiled and churned around them, so that Setsuna felt as though she was at the center of a great whirlpool composed only of liquified rainbows with their irridescent spectrums. 

This was the very thing that Setsuna usually avoided. Oh, she hardly minded chatting with friends, or even getting dressed up once in a while. But centuries of isolation behind the Gates of Time had made such crowded gatherings distasteful to her. The drama and the gossip, the battle to outdo one another, was really quite exhausting. Men and women pasted on their smiles, as flat and sparkling as a sheet of tinfoil. Setsuna had no patience for tinfoil smiles. 

The child, whose hair looked rather like a dessert platter, clung to her hand as she wove through the crowd, searching, it seemed, for someone or other. More than a few of the beautifully dressed guests turned to look at Setsuna as she passed. Many women eyed her critically. Many men just eyed her. 

"Daddy!" Suddenly Chibi Usa released Setsuna's hand as she was swept up into the folds of a violet cape, her arms wrapping tightly around the neck of her father. 

Setsuna could not help but smile upon the scene of the violet-haired King and his energetic daughter. This was the King she knew. Suddenly she could not imagine why she thought such an odd thing, nor why she should feel such a sense of relief when she did. 

"How nice to have the pleasure of your face again, Princess Pluto," he said warmly, his arm lovingly supporting Chibi Usa's back as she clung to him. 

Setsuna returned his smile, relieved at a friendly face among the sea of transluscent rainbows. "The pleasure is all mine, my King. I'm afraid that had I not bumped into you, I may have fled the scene." 

"Never one for crowds, are you Pluto? Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to a more secluded location?" 

Setsuna glanced around. Anything would be better than this. Especially if it meant talking to an old trusted friend. "I would love that, your majesty." 

Endymion allowed his daughter to slide back onto the floor. "Small Lady, why don't you go find Hotaru? I'm afraid she may have flirted with one too many teenage boys again and may need you to avert another disaster." 

"Okay papa!" Her important mission assigned, she hurried away. 

King of Earth and Princess of Pluto watched as the bob of pink hair disappeared into the crowd. Such an energetic thing, Setsuna thought. I'm glad she has stayed young for so long. So sweet, cheerful, naive... she's everything I'm not. 

"Well," Endymion said briefly, breaking her reverie. He offered the crook of his arm. "Shall we?" 

She slid her hand around his arm, amusement playing in her otherwise dark eyes. "Why, your majesty, surely you don't show such kindness to all the ladies of your court? What ever would your wife think, seeing you escorting women, left and right? Look, already you've got people staring." 

He payed no heed to the men and women who turned to stare, passing whispers behind cupped hands in an odd game of telephone. Endymion and Pluto, pass it on. Annie May and a Fluto, pass it on. 

The King made a vague gesture towards the far end of the ballroom. "My wife's over there, being the social butterfly that she is." Sure enough, Setsuna could barely make out two silver-white odango, twinkling with the silver crown that adorned her head. Even from this distance she seemed to radiate a warm glow that cast itself upon the faces of all who looked at her. It was a radiance that could be rivaled by no star. Setsuna knew very well how far that light could cast its shine. When one lives on the most distant, lonely planet in the solar system, sometimes that light is the only thing that brings hope and meaning into an otherwise desolate life. "She'll be there for a while," he continued. "At these kinds of parties she seldomly even knows I'm there." 

Setsuna made a sort of grunt to assure him she was listening, but wondered why he had bothered to say such a thing. Surely they preferred being together, even among so many other people? The dark soldier could not help but think of the young Usagi and Mamoru she had come to know so well, how she would often hang on him, no matter what the situation, and he in turn would hold her in his protective arms, preferring the comfort of her warmth to anything else. No ordinary party could seperate them in such a way. 

But then, the Usagi and Mamoru that Setsuna knew were new lovers. They had not yet slipped into the comfortable stability of married life. They did not wake up together every morning, eat their meals together, share those intimate, yet brutally ordinary, parts of their life. The King and Queen had come to know each other in this way, after all. So it should not be too surprising that they did not mind splitting up for a few hours in the evening to visit their friends. 

This was what she told herself, anyway. Yet why did she still feel uneasy? 

The hallways of the Crystal Palace were no less spectacular than the exterior. Great chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, scintillating prismatically. The spectral light reflected off of the opalescent walls, shifting and changing as one moved, so that it was like walking through a great tunnel composed only of aurora borealis. The music and chattering faded to a pleasantly dull hum behind them. As they mounted a winding staircase in which the walls curved away, making it impossible to see more than ten feet in either direction, Setsuna finally relaxed a little. 

"The atmosphere was a little stifling, wasn't it?" Endymion asked, noticing the change in the girl's composure. 

Setsuna made a noise of agreement. Relief was flowing in her veins; she couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew there was a reason why. There was a reason that this Endymion was different than the last one she had seen. But when was the last time she'd seen Endymion? And why did she get flustered thinking about it? 

The milky pearliness had faded from the wall to her right, so that the crystal created a see-through window, through which one could see the twinkling lights of the city below. Crystal Tokyo sprawled as far as the eye could see, shining more brightly than the stars that smiled down upon it. 

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" 

Pluto started, not realizing she had been staring. "King?" 

"The lights. They're certainly beautiful." He moved closer to her to get a better view. Now he was standing so close that she could feel his breath on her face, could feel his body heat tingle along her skin. A violet cape brushed the back of her hand. The scent of his breath was overpowering. "They say you can see them from space. That even out there, isolated in endless emptiness, Crystal Tokyo shines like a star." 

"That would certainly be a sight," she replied vaguely, beginning to move away from him. 

But then his arm was around her shoulders, and suddenly that same heat she had felt radiating off him was so close to her, breathing down her neck, shivering across her skin. "Is Crystal Tokyo a star to you, Pluto? Is that why you always return here?" Another arm snaked its way around her stomach, trapping her. Now his lips brushed her earlobe. "Are you just... lonely?" 

Setsuna rounded on him then, her garnet eyes tainted with anger and confusion, but even as she did so, strong hands pushed her shoulders up against the transparent wall, and before she could utter a word of protest his mouth was pressed to hers. 

It was such a sudden, forceful movement, that for a moment all Setsuna could do was splutter a few half-words, her eyes wide in shock. He pushed his mouth so hard against hers, that her head was forced back against the window, her lips bruising. She stood, uncomprehending, his weight leaning up against her. 

Suddenly she came to her senses and shoved Endymion off of her with all her strength. "King, what--" 

He stumbled back, but seemed not the lead bit perturbed, as though this was all merely a part of the game. "Oh come on Pluto, you can't tell me that you haven't felt it all these years. I've seen you, the way you gaze at me, the way you blush whenever I happen to glance your way. You've been more obvious than a lovesick teenager." 

She took a breath, nearly shaking with fury. "How dare you," she hissed. "How dare you even suggest such a thing! My feelings for you have never gone beyond respect and admiration! To me you have always been my King, husband to my Queen, nothing more! But you, how could you do this to your wife, your daughter? How could you even imagine such a thing?" 

He laughed at her then. It was a cold, hollow laugh that reverberated throughout the deserted stairwell and chilled Setsuna to her very soul. "My wife and daughter, you say? A flippant woman whose idea of fun is a hot fudge sundae and a spoiled brat who has lived several centuries and can't even hit puberty? You think I have any emotion left for that tiresome hag and her snotty child?" 

Setsuna gaped at him. This could not be true. This could not be real. The Endymion she knew would not, could not, ever say such a thing. The Endymion she knew could not ever do such a thing. 

A single thought surfaced in her mind with bitter clarity. This is not the Endymion I know. 

Mismatched memories tumbled into her mind. A king with eyes of black, his two lovers crooning over him. A room of stone, with candles flickering around her. The icy sound of a sword leaving its sheath. The cold, stale sound of laughter. 

Suddenly Setsuna knew that if there was any difference between this king and the one in her faded memory, it was that the other Endymion had been imprisoned by some greater power, forced to become the horrible creature that he was. The Endymion that stood before her now, his eyes filled with lust and desire, had become this way of his own accord. Somehow, the one that she now faced seemed infinitely more sinister. 

He again began to advance upon her. "C'mon now, Setsuna," he whispered, addressing her in the most informal way possible. "It's just a little fun. No one ever has to know." 

An overwhelming sense of disgust rose in Setsuna's throat, until she felt as though she would choke on it. The Time Key materialized in her hand. Before King Endymion could move any closer, she shoved the Garnet Orb against his temple. "So sorry, King," she snarled through gritted teeth. Her voice was dark and dangerous, her eyes alight with a fierce fire. "But my loyalty rests with Neo Queen Serenity. So help me, I would sooner blow your brains out than betray her." 

"Princess Pluto?" A voice echoed up to them through the hollow stairwell. Setsuna and the King exchanged embarrassed glances. By the time the newcomer mounted the stairs and came into view, both were turned towards the window, a good three feet of space seperating them. Setsuna knew that she herself had nothing to hide, that by protecting Endymion she became equally suspicious. She knew this, but she also knew what Serenity would feel if she ever found out what had happened just now. She could never do this to her Queen, no matter how sickened she now felt about the Queen's husband. 

But then, in a bizarre future where King Endymion, once Chiba Mamoru, was not the loving and devoted husband that Setsuna had come to know him as, what was this Neo Queen Serenity truly like? Did she choose from among the circle of friendly cortiers she had been chatting with, lead them into the dark, hidden corners of the Palace, bid them to do the unthinkable? She shuddered to think of it. 

"Ah, forgive my intrusion your majesty. I was hoping I might have a word with Miss Pluto." 

"It's really no problem," Setsuna remarked, turning to face the newcomer. "I was just..." Her words froze in her throat. Just below her, a man stood on the crystal steps. His short hair was tinged with dark green, save for the white stripe that extended down the center, like a skunk's tail. Though he wore an ordinary black tuxedo, Setsuna found herself picturing him in a shirt of dusty purple, holding a great double-bladed oar. "Leaving," she finished flatly, feeling rather breathless. 

"Well then," he replied, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She knew that smirk. And oh, how she knew that mouth. "Would it please the princess to have someone accompany her?" 

"Please," she replied, perhaps a little too fast. 

Without a second glance at the King who stood behind her, trying to catch her eye, the Princess of Pluto hurried down the steps and joined the person whose name she was sure she knew. 

-"--'--{3 

After the stifling party and overwhelming presence of the King, Setsuna welcomed the cool night air on the balcony. The man at her side watched her bemusedly, his light eyes filled with an expression that made it seem as though he read her thoughts. "Lovely night, isn't it?" 

She inhaled the sweet starlit air, gazing out at the evening. "Spare me the small talk, Charon. The last person who talked of such things was trying to get down my dress." 

He chuckled. "Ah, I was wondering if you'd caught on to him. But then, it seems that few things surprise you anymore, princess. For instance, you don't seem the least bit surprised to see me." 

Her deep red eyes regarded him, taking in the welcome sight of his face. "Should I be? I've just woken up in a timeline that I don't belong to, wearing a dress that I sure as heck don't remember putting on, and I've just been hit on by the one man who I've always held in the highest respect. And what's more, I've got an odd feeling that I just saw you not too long ago, which in itself is enough to make my head spin. Right now I feel as though I'm either swimming through a neverending dream that I just can't wake up from, or I'm most definitely not in Kansas anymore. Given the circumstances, seeing hallucinations of a lover who died a couple of millenia ago doesn't seem all that unusual." 

Slightly exasperated at her own outburst, Pluto again turned to gaze out at the skyline. From here she could see the crystal-shaped buildings, rising in every direction, shape, and color. One obelisk in particular rose high above most others. At its peak, it was cheerfully illuminated in shades of blue, green, and violet, so that one could see that it was not just a tower, but a clock tower. From her position on the balcony, Setsuna could just barely make out the wide hour hand, its tip pointed towards the Roman numeral that was made up of an I and a V. 

And why shouldn't it be unusual, she thought hotly. Everything else felt so disconnected from reality, so distant from the world she had come to know, that she half-expected Sailor Galaxia to trot up to them and ask if they'd like to buy some Girl Scout cookies (half-price for Chaos Caramel Delights). She had a vague sense that she had been feeling this way for a while, but for the life of her could not figure out how long. Imagine, the soldier of time unable to calculate time. 

"Although," she continued more softly now, "even if you are a hallucination, it sure is nice to see you again, Charon." 

He stepped forward, his tender eyes, the color of the sky, gazing down at her. "I assure you Princess, I am just as real as I was the day we parted." 

"How can I believe that?" She whispered. 

"Believe this." And with that, he pulled her towards him, wrapping her in a tight embrace. They stood there for a long time, locked in each other's arms. 

Setsuna felt as though she could no longer breathe. She leaned into him, feeling that wonderful warmth that she had longed for over so many centuries. She didn't dare break that exhilerating moment, but finally she could bare it no longer. "How?" She asked breathlessly. 

"I guess it was just meant to be." 

Setsuna blinked a few times. Her mouth felt dry. "Like destiny?" 

"Yes, I suppose it is." 

She stared hard at the ground, her mind churning. A lump had settled into the pit of her stomach. She heard her voice ask lightly, "when did Charon become so eloquent?" 

He shrugged. "Guess things change." 

"Mmm." She closed her eyes, taking a calming breath. "Then can you tell me..." At this she looked directly up at him, her expression frozen. "When did Charon get blue eyes?" 

There was a long, vacant pause, in which both regarded each other, unblinkingly. Then it was as though the imaginary magic in the air had snapped, giving itself a good case of whiplash. 

The person before her growled low in his throat. His grip around Setsuna's waist became tighter, more desperate. She felt a stinging pain in her back - claws. His fingers were becoming claws. 

"Guess I can't fool you," he said, smiling dangerously. His teeth were changing into rows of tiny little daggers. 

Setsuna leapt away from the false Charon, her eyes widening at the thing that he - or rather, it - was becoming. 

"Who are you?" 

"Why Princess, don't you remember me?" As he spoke, he seemed to grow, his limbs contorting in ways she would not have thought possible. His skin was changing, too--a cobalt tint began to seep into it, and it somehow began to look transparent, so that if she watched closely she could see the veins pulsating within his clawed hands, before they too seemed to take on a bluish transluscence. She had no time to inspect such things, however, being that he had now doubled in size, and had grown sizeable ears on the top of his head. Whatever clothes he had been wearing were pretty much scrapped by now. By the time the grotesque transformation had finished taking place, any resemblance it had once bore to the Charon she had known was pretty much nil. 

It towered above her, this strange being. The balcony was overflowing with it, threatening to allow it to spill over the side. She huddled in her one empty corner, several stories above the ground, staring up at a pair of vacant blue eyes. It was amorphous, both in looks and in power, so that one moment it seemed to be the size of a housecat, and the next, seemed to fill all the world with its great bulk. Setsuna realized the irony of her comparing it to a feline--for that was exactly what it appeared to be. But this was no ordinary domestic pet. 

This was a lion. 

Or rather, a lioness, she thought dimly, noting the lack of mane. Heck, it could have been a pink butterfly, for all she cared. Instead, it was a great blue beast, its translucent flesh crackling with unspent energy. Stray bolts of electricity chattered manacingly to themselves as they skipped across the smooth surface of the building and disappeared over the crystal peaks. Setsuna found that looking through the creature was like looking through a glob of Jello. A great big living glob of Jello. With teeth. 

"I don't know you," she answered cooly, sounding much more brave than she felt. 

"Don't you?" Its voice was somewhere between a growl and a whisper. The sound was unsettling. "Surely the sailor senshi of time does not have so short a memory. Why don't you look back a little, my dear? Do you not remember that day, the day we struggled on the cold beaches of Neptune? Do you not remember how you abandoned your duty for the sake of what you call comradeship? Do you not remember the day you made a fatal mistake that cost someone else's life? Do you not remember the day HE died?" 

Bile rose in the back of Setsuna's throat, and she felt as though her knees would give way. All blood had drained from her face, so that she was uncharacteristically pale. Nothing, no launch through the reaches of time, no perverted king who'd had one too many, no stumble through worlds not her own, could have ever prepared her for this. "No..." she was shaking, though not from the cold. "You can't be..." 

"Oh, but I am." The low feral voice sounded almost cheerful as it said this, deeply enjoying the look upon its pray's face. "Once I was known as Oroszlan, to a highly civilized people. Unfortunately, these people met an untimely demise. In the outskirts of Orion, many called me Leijona, and trembled at my name. You and your kind, however, took a much less subtle approach, and gave me the unfortunate title of Akuma Neko. But, my dear, I am so much more than a devil cat. So very much more." 

"But..." Setsuna's voice was so tiny next to the massive creature. She was a child again, hiding beneath her blanket. She was a teenager again, hiding behind her Time Staff. "But you died with him. I... I saw it!" 

The thing leaned forward, so that its great muzzle was inches from Setsuna's face. Its breath, charged with electricity, caused her skin to tingle and the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck to stand up. "You, who has spent so much time in the Underworld. Do not take for granted who is dead and who is not." 

The world was beginning to swim around her. Setsuna struggled to keep herself steady, clinging to the railing with trembling fingers, her knuckles ghostly white. "You couldn't have been..." she stammered, "you couldn't have been alive... here... in the outer reaches of time... I would have felt it... I would have known..." 

The great beast threw its head back and emmited a roar so terrible that the ground shook beneath them, and she was sure the balcony made a few alarming cracks. But then she realized that the lion was not roaring, but laughing. "You were too busy trying to forget, trying to leave it all behind. Even now I appear before you, and still you need someone to tell you what you're seeing. Dear, dear Pluto. So ancient and wise, yet so naive. You've withdrawn into yourself, curled into a ball of perfect misery, hidden within your perfectly constructed shell. You've become so seperate from the rest of the world, it is a wonder that you can still get out of bed in the morning. 

But this is my territory now, little princess. I've been here for millennia, riding the Winds of Hades like my own personal subway system. I have seen the worlds you yourself are too scared to visit. I have stretched across the great expanse of time, touching both Beginning and End with the tips of my claws. I can fill the greatest galaxy, or drift through the tiniest keyhole. I am everywhere, and I am nowhere." 

It laughed again; a shuddering, echoing din that surely must have been heard by all of Crystal Tokyo. "Seal me away this time, little one!" 

Setsuna was paralyzed. I can't, she thought wildly. I can't do it. I could never do it. I wish I could wake up and find out that it's all just another bad dream. 

I wish none of this was real. 

The roar was replaced by a dreadful silence so complete that she thought she'd gone deaf. Somewhere between Oroszlan and herself a chilling, familiar glow of soft purple light took up residence. A dark object, miniscule against the backdrop of the beast's face, materialized within easy reach of Setsuna's hand, the dark red jewel shining like a Garnet Eye. The lioness's cobalt lips drew back in a snarl to reveal dagger-sharp teeth. It reared its mammoth head, as though the sight of the thing had rendered her blind. Setsuna could clearly feel the balcony lurch beneath her this time, as she reached her hand out to snatch the key from where it remained, suspended in space. As she closed her fingers around the cold stone surface, she swore she heard the faintest of whispers in her ear. 

"Don't give up yet, Princess!" 

And she was sure she knew that voice... 


	7. Hour 5

Kodoku no Fortress   
  
Hour V   
  
By Spirit-hime   
  
************   
  
Author's note: Thank you everyone for all the warm comments you have given me! Often the only thing it takes is a single compliment from a reader to make me think, "hey, someone actually likes this. Maybe I should work on it today." When I'm in need of a little encouragement to get me to write, I usually go back and read those great reviews you've all left. Thank you so much. I've also been getting a few comments about how the time flow is a little hard to follow. Truthfully, a lot of that is intentional. This is, after all, a story about Sailor Pluto, the senshi of time. It's supposed to have a screwed up continuum. I hope this hasn't made it too confusing, though. I am trying my best!  
  
Thanks, and enjoy!  
  
************  
  
That smell. That sweet, warm, home-spun smell. That delicious, comfortable, childhood smell. It filled your nostrils first and your mouth second. It was thick and tangible enough that you felt as though you could eat it right out of the air, yet always your tastebuds were just a little disappointed for lack of physical sustenance. It permeated your clothes, ruffled your hair. It was a youthful kind of smell. The kind one associated with leaning across a flour-sprinkled table to watch wrinkled fists punching a swollen blob of dough. It was the kind that conjured up images of buttery yellow cookies tediously cut into delicate shapes of stars, hearts, and rocking horses, before they were sugared in colors of pink, green, and cornflower blue. It was like every kitchen ever baked in, every skilled grandmother who ever warmed the hearts of her family from a dining room table. If ever there was a time machine that could carry you back to those days, it was this smell.  
  
Which was why, as Setsuna stood studying a bouquet of tiny white flowers that seemed to be crafted entirely of sugar, she felt a little nostalgic. She recalled a tiny Hotaru--barely a few weeks past being a toddler and already reading philosophy--propped up on tiptoes, the front of her sundress pressed perilously against the back of the chair she stood upon, dutifully pouring the contents of a Neslie Toll House bag into a mixing bowl. Michiru--ever health conscious--had warned them not to eat the uncooked dough unless they desired to have their fingers soundly thwapped by a wooden spoon. She was clearly fighting a loosing battle, however, as all three delinquents (Haruka included) had scandelously swiped fingerfuls of sugary globs at every turn. They'd barely turned out enough to make a decent batch that day, but it was worth it. Because Hotaru had spilled three eggs onto the floor. Because Haruka had smeared dough onto Michiru's nose, only to lick it off again. Because the front of Setsuna's favorite dress had been powdered in a light snow of flour. Because no one really likes chocolate chip cookies so much as they enjoy making them. And because of that smell.  
  
That smell had appeared another time in her life, too. A time when all she knew was cold, empty desolation. When the slightest ounce of warmth was as welcome as the dawn. The rain had beat against the windows, creating a vast, hollow echo throughout the empty palace. The oven was set, its little red light glowing cheerfully. He'd grabbed her around the waist from behind, startling her and causing the eggs in her hand to drop onto the tiled floor. He wouldn't let her go while she mixed the ingredients together, snatching chocolate chips from the bowl whenever she turned to reach for something. That was when she turned on him and planted a palmful of dough in his face. That act had caused their cooking session to degenerate into an all-out war. Setsuna couldn't remember whether they ever got to the cooking part. All she could remember was how he'd held her down and eaten the sweet mixture of flour, sugar, eggs, and chocolate chips off of her neck. Charon never really was one for conventional things.  
  
The tiny flowers shattered in her hands. Slivers of sweet icing drifted to the floor, where they were immediately forgotten. Charon. Charon and Oroszlan. Charon and Menaki Neko. She could not remember one without the other. They converged in her mind. They were two sides of a golden coin. They were one in the same. They were opposing forces; one a warm, caring soul, the other a cruel, murderous creature. They were seperate entities, but somehow in her mind the line between them was becoming blurred. Where she saw Charon, there was Leijona, lurking behind the shadows. When she saw Oroszlan, there was Charon, his face wraught with despair. The great cat somehow filled all her memories of him, and yet... and yet...  
  
And yet she had forgotten it. Somehow, in the span of countless centuries, in a time when she still knew the color of his eyes, she had forgotten the other side of the coin. She remembered her source of happiness in the days of her youth. But she had forgotten the part about what brought that happiness to an abrupt and bitter end. The line between fulfillment and desolation was balanced on the tip of a lion's claw.  
  
She shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. Stop dwelling, darn it. You aren't helping any.  
  
To distract herself, she glanced around. Where am I this time, she thought dully. Time traveling. She'd been time traveling again. It seemed as though every time she did this, her mind shook off the memories of whatever world she left behind, as though her attempts to forget the past had finally succeeded in a very literal sense. Scattered images still lingered in her mind. Some of them involved rather frightening versions of Chiba Mamoru. Some contained a small dark object that she could barely picture. And in one...  
  
No. That just couldn't be. Feijona? The lion? Alive? It was beyond comprehension. How could a creature that had died thousands of years ago just pop back up again like nothing had happened? Oh sure, some things could be reborn, supposing their starseeds could be salvaged, but Setsuna had stared right through that great blue glob, and all she'd seen was the sky behind it. It had been as empty and starless as Chaos itself. No part of that monster's true form was solid enough to be salvagable. There was nothing to resurrect. Unless...  
  
Unless it was never dead to begin with.  
  
She shuddered. The shards of broken sugary flowers crunched beneath her feet. Oh yeah, she was dwelling again. Pay attention, Setsuna. Where are you?  
  
The answer to that question was not quite as simple as she'd hoped.  
  
The flowers she had so carelessly crushed were not the only edible thing in this room. In fact, she was pretty darn sure that nearly everything she set her eyes upon were all set to give her caveties. The furniture, which she had initially mistaken for wood, rather reminded her of gingerbread. The floor was delicately tiled with large wheel-like peppermints, their shiny surfaces swirled in red and wintergreen. Brick walls looked to be constructed of sugar cubes and frosting. Doorframes and windowsills were of vibrantly ribboned candycanes. Fudge-furnished chairs and couches were stacked high with colorful licorice cushions. Icing chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, their lights casting a dappled glow upon the room.  
  
In short, the whole darn place gave her a Hansel and Gretel vibe, and she rather preferred not to find out where the witch was hiding.  
  
(It should be noted that Setsuna was a woman who had been around for thousands of years, and had seen a great many unusual things in her time. The fact that she didn't so much as bat an eyelash at the notion of being trapped inside a world constructed by the psycho brothers Grimm, who seemed to take a great delight in scaring the Moon Dust out of small children, said a great deal about her personality--namely, that she should have settled down in a retirement home a long time ago.)  
  
A muffled sound she hadn't noticed during her prolonged thought process began to filter through her senses. It was the kind of sound one would expect in this sort of place. The kind that either added or subtracted from the eerie atmosphere, that made the sugar-coated world become childish or creepy, depending on how you looked at it. It was the unmistakeable sound of children's laughter.  
  
By the sounds of it, there was more than one. Quite a few more than one, actually. The gleeful shrieks, punctuated by the occasional playful scream, were high-pitched enough to indicate that this was a herd of very small children. Just then there was a loud thunk on the far wall--hard enough that a few nic-nacs were knocked from the shelf--which was immediately followed by a sobbing wail. Setsuna inwardly rolled her eyes, remembering distinctly a time when young Hotaru had managed to destroy the majority of Michiru's favorite china. That same sort of sound had alerted her of the disaster: a crash, followed by crying. Ah, the joy of kids.  
  
Rolling up her sleeves, Setsuna made her way towards the door. Of course, somewhere between the sleeves and the door, she made a discovery that was only slightly more shocking than the world itself (though not really: see the parenthetical aside above). Her outfit had somehow warped itself into something that made her look like she'd walked right out of an American western--the kind that specialized in damsels in distress and sweet country women who pined after the lonely cowboy. It consisted of a frilly baby blue loose-fitting blouse, a long floral-patterned skirt, a rather large white ruffled apron that very nearly acted as a skirt in itself, and a white knit shawl. Great, Setsuna thought bleakly. I'm Mother Goose.  
  
With a flip of her green hair--which had been neatly twisted into a French braid that trailed nearly to the small of her back--Setsuna steeled herself for the horrors that lay beyond the milk chocolate door, and turned the gumdrop handle.  
  
It was chaos. It would have made the most steel-hearted babysitter cry. It was a daycare worker's nightmare. And the most frightening part was, she recognised most of them.  
  
The one who had hit her head was a chibi version of Usagi. She sat on the floor sobbing, her hands holding her head between the two odango. Chibi Michiru and chibi Hotaru were next to her, busily painting pictures of fishies and butterflies on the wall with colorful sticky frosting. Chibi Makoto was breaking the legs off of gingerbread chairs and knawing away at them, one by one. Chibi Haruka had found a jar of jawbreakers and was throwing them at everyone from on top of a high shelf. Chibi Mamoru, meanwhile, was deftly stuffing handfuls of chocolate chips down his pants. Chibi Minako was chasing chibi Ami around the room with handfuls of gummy worms. Chibi Rei was folding edible rice paper into little cranes, before biting their heads off.  
  
The sight was beyond surreal. It was frickin' bizarre. Having dreams about these kinds of things often caused people to have themselves commited, or at least stop eating triple hot fudge sundaes before bed.   
  
It wasn't just the sight, though. It was the noise. The high-pitched giggles, the ear-shattering squeals, the sobs and shouts and clatters and bangs and constant escalating drum of the vein pulsating in her temple. It was enough to make you cry, enough to make you scream.  
  
She did.  
  
At first, there was only stunned silence. Chibi Minako stopped in midstep, her outstretched fist still clenched around some very squished-looking gummy worms. Chibi Haruka allowed several jawbreakers to slip from her hand, where they clattered to the floor. Chibi Hotaru stood dripping purple and orange frosting. Chibi Makoto was trying very hard to hide behind a half-eaten stool.  
  
It was then that the crying started.  
  
One would expect the first sob to come from chibi Usagi. But it was chibi Rei--who, in her surprise, had crushed one of her origami creations. It was all downhill from there. Before Setsuna knew it, they were all wailing at the tops of their little lungs, streams of tears rolling down their faces.   
  
It was at this point that Setsuna decided she no longer had a soft spot for children.  
  
If it had been, say, Michiru in this situation, and not Setsuna, the children would have been quieted and tended to in less time than you can say "who wants to hear a story?" But chibi Michiru was currently wailing her teal little head off, and was in no capacity to be helping poor Setsuna at this point. But even though Setsuna was not Michiru, and could therefore not quiet a bawling 3-year-old whilst applying mascara and balancing three teacups on her head, there was one undeniable aspect of Setsuna's personality. The woman loved children. Absolutely loved them. It was no wonder her first friend in centuries happened to be a certain young pink-haired princess. And even now, as she was surrounded by what's referred to by many bachelors as a Worst Case Scenario, she couldn't help but love the little monsters.  
  
Which was why she made such an effort to cheer the little buggers up.  
  
At first, she tried to console them just by talking. This proved to be an impossible feat, as their voices could easily be likened to twenty nitrogen-laden steam engines smashing into one another simultaneously, and drowned out anything short of another blood-curdling scream (which really wouldn't help matters any). She briefly considered a method often used with baby Hotaru, which was to pick her up and hold her, but unless she grew a few dozen more arms, such a thing could prove difficult. She then recalled one of Haruka's favorite remedies. No, not proping infant Hotaru on the seat of a motorcycle and speeding around town for twenty minutes. Haruka's other (and less dangerous) method was to somehow make Hotaru laugh. This could involve anything from weird faces to odd dances. It was a nearly foolproof plan, and by the time she was finished Hotaru would be giggling away, completely oblivious to whatever had upset her in the first place.  
  
Unfortunately, there was one problem with this idea. In all her cold, desolate years spent in solitude behind the Gates of Time, not once had Setsuna ever been so inclined to make anyone laugh. She now found herself completely at a loss as to how exactly one goes about doing such a thing. She tried to look back upon things she'd caught on television, anything that could be considered amusing, but most of what her mind came up with consisted of racy jokes and men in skirts. Wonderful idea, Setsuna. Cheer them up with drag queens.  
  
Well, think Setsuna. What do kids like? She had a disturbing mental picture of herself shouting, "hey kids, pull my finger!" It wasn't at all pleasant, and she immediately wished her brain came equipped with a "delete" key.  
  
Nevertheless, the munchkins weren't going to stop crying anytime soon, and Setsuna was always one to rise to the occasion.  
  
Okay. She couldn't dance. And making faces was out of the question. But she could sing. And oh, how amusing her singing was.  
  
The lyrics began, nervous and stretched as they were. There were a few extra lilts to the tune that slipped into her shaky voice. However, as she progressed the notes became stronger, louder. One by one, the children stopped howling to stare at the woman from whose throat the odd tune was being emitted. It was the strangest thing they'd ever heard. It was the first thing that had popped into Setsuna's head.  
  
It was Achy Breaky Heart¹.  
  
There's something about country music and its odd American twang that sounds so foreign to a Japanese ear that it becomes something altogether alien and incomprehensible. And when such a bizarre form of cacophony is being sung by a tall green-haired woman whose voice is unaccustomed to any sort of singing outside of "Happy Birthday To You" it becomes something akin to tapdancing chickens.  
  
One by one, the children stopped crying. Now she was surrounded by a sea of blank stares. They weren't laughing, but it was most definitely an improvement.  
  
"Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, I just don't think he'd understand..." With the full attention of the kids around her, the soldier of time and space ploughed onward bravely, willingly and with sound mind making a fool of herself in front of a roomful of munchkins whose favorite music included such things as "Itsy Bitsy Spider." As she sang the chorus for what felt like the fourth time, she became more confident, and began to stride forward bravely, her Mother Hubbard boots clamping in time with the beat.  
  
Of course, she forgot about the jawbreakers that had been scattered all over the floor.  
  
"It might blow up and kill this maOOOOP!" With one misplaced step, Setsuna's feet flew well above her head, the world did a summersault, and next thing she knew, she was sprawled on the floor, acres of skirt flung over her head.  
  
They hadn't laughed before, but they certainly did now.  
  
Setsuna flung back the layers of ruffles and flower print from her face. The room, once flooded with tears, was now filled with childish giggles. Under the circumstances, it was music to her ears. She thought with a twinge of embarrassment about how that laughter had come to be, and made a mental note to never EVER tell anyone about this incident.  
  
After the initial amusement wore off, the children began to swarm forward like an army of Munchkins with battle cries of, "Setsuna-neesan², read me a story!" "Setsuna-neesan, come see what I drawed for you!" "Setsuna-neesan, can we play house?"  
  
Many people would have found that situation even more frightening than the crying one. At least when they're crying, kids are too preoccupied with that very pasttime to bother paying any attention to you. Thusly, they don't seek you out. The moment they begin to regard you as a respected figure, a source of entertainment and comfort, you can pretty much kiss your freedom goodbye. Many people would have been thinking this just then. But Setsuna was not many people.  
  
So it was that hands were held, stories were read, noses were wiped, and Setsuna found herself almost enjoying her time with the little scoundrels. It was the kind of work one could lose oneself in, especially because of the sheer volume of children that seemed to reside in the sugary gingerbread house. Wave upon wave of them came; every time one set would be put down for a nap, another would appear needing to be fed. Once this group was fed, another would demand a game. By the time these ones had finished playing, the first set would have woken up again. On and on it went, an endless, mindless cycle. And yet.  
  
And yet, Setsuna thought, as she carried a pair of pink-haired twins up the chocolate stairs, I can't remember the last time I've felt this way. This sense of gratification, of being needed by someone else. Sailor Pluto is revered. Sailor Pluto is respected by all. But never is Meiou Setsuna needed in that personal, human way that so many people desire to be needed.   
  
Hotaru had given her a taste of this, a brief moment of near-motherhood. It was but a flicker in a long, dark night--a flicker that had long been extinguished. Hotaru had outgrown her childish ways. And Setsuna had outgrown her usefulness as anything other than a trusted friend. Such is life for the guardian of time.  
  
She hardly dwelled on this fact, however, as the children left her little opportunity to think at all. Chibi Ami--ever inquisitive--kept crawling into places where she shouldn't be. She had most recently been discovered at the back of the linen closet. Chibi Usagi, hopelessly clumsy, had an awful habit of breaking things. In the span of an hour she'd managed to smash two plates, a vase, a doll, and Setsuna's toe. Chibi Haruka kept kissing the other girls until they cried, and was often seen chasing them down the hallway or cornering them in a bedroom.  
  
There were others, too. Ones that Setsuna didn't recognize. Some were easy enough to guess, of course. The one with the cat ears could no doubt be Sailor Mau, and it stood to reason that the tiny grey-haired girl that the cat-like child kept chasing was Sailor Chuu. The Starlights turned up beneath a bed, pulling each other's ponytails.  
  
As she went, she hardly dwelled upon the past. In fact, with each passing task, her memories seemed to slip away from her, flowing from her mind like rippling water. It was hardly an unpleasant feeling--in fact, it was very much a release--and while she never acknowledged the phenomenon, she began to feel a numb sense of relief.  
  
As the sun began to set and the light began to fade from the sugar-pane windows, the house of gingerbread at last began to settle. Setsuna made her way from bedroom to bedroom, tucking in the tiny tots and whispering good-nights. She soon found her way to a bedroom that still had the light on. The door pulled open with a small creak, and she peeked her head inside. A tiny girl with indigo hair and eyes of the fiercest electric blue sat curled on the bed of frosting, a book clutched in her arms. Setsuna didn't recognize her, but she assumed the child was an unknown sailor senshi and dismissed the matter completely. She smiled at the little girl. "Time to sleep, little one."  
  
The girl held out the book urgently. "Will you read me a story, Setsuna-neesan? Please?" The girl's voice was soft, syrupy-sweet.  
  
Setsuna couldn't resist.  
  
The two curled up on the bed, the layers of sweet-smelling covers enveloping them. The girl arranged herself between the older woman's arms so that she could watch the pages as they turned. She never made a sound, never inturrupted Setsuna's deep, flowing voice. It was a gentle story, about two children in a faraway land who found a world beneath the river, and lived there together for all eternity. Setsuna found that the story, told through her own voice, had a hypnotic quality, and by the time she turned the last page, she felt a tired sort of contentment. She was just about to rise from the bed when the little girl turned up with another book. "Please, Setsuna-neesan? Just one more?" How could she say no? They devoured that book, and the next, and the next. There seemed to be no passage of time, nothing to indicate how long they sat there together, delving into one sweet little story after another. The more they read, the less Setsuna wanted to stop, the less she wanted to be anywhere else except here in this bed of candy, her own voice rising and falling in the darkness. There was nothing else except the gingerbread house, there was no one else except the children.  
  
At one point, as Setsuna set down one book and prepared to pick up another, the little girl craned her neck to look up at her. "Setsuna-neesan, will you be here forever?"  
  
The book grudgingly slipped from her fingers. "I... I don't know. I guess we'll have to see, won't we?"  
  
"But you've been here forever already, right? You've always been here, with us?"  
  
"I..." was that true? Yes. There was nothing else. There was only the gingerbread house. "Yes. Yes, I suppose so."  
  
"So you'll stay forever, right? Forever and ever?"  
  
"Of course. Forever and ever."  
  
She lost track of how many books they'd read. One after another they fell from her hands, and one after another they were replaced by new ones. She was thoroughly enjoying one about a boy and a girl who were trapped in two seperate towers, forever longing for one another but never able to get beyond the stone walls, when she realized the child was asleep. Setsuna smiled, and closed the book.   
  
Strange, how long had she been reading? She cast her eyes around the room for a clock. One that looked as though it had been constructed out of bubblegum pointed at a red gumball in place of where five would normally be.  
  
She knew that she should get up, that she should check on the other kids. But it felt so nice to sit here, propped up by candy pillows with the little girl sleeping next to her. She longed for the complacent feeling that the books brought. Her fingers groped for another one.  
  
This book was different from the others. There were no words, only pictures. The pictures themselves seemed disjointed, as though they were not quite so concerned with the story as they were with capturing single moments of it. Each picture was so intricate, so detailed, that it almost seemed to breathe with life. A great, heavy door that was so thickly entangled in rose bushes that one could barely see it. A boat that drifted aimlessly down a river, vacant of whatever occupant that had once rowed it. A Russian Blue kitten who crouched behind a propped-up mask in order to catch some mice unawares.   
  
She turned the page. A man clothed in rags, peering from beneath a tattered hood, his face nearly obscured. But those eyes. Those bright black eyes that peered out at her, so sharp that they sliced through the paper and into her very soul. There was something in his hand. He was reaching out, offering it to her. She began to reach back, so sure that it was real, that she could slide her hand right into the page and take the object. An icy wind seemed to stir from the picture, brushing across her face, waking up her dulled senses. It carried with it smells of dust, of shadows, of tears. And a whisper. A whisper so clear yet so distant that she was not sure whether she had dreamt it. "Please... do not forget."  
  
Forget? Forget what? Do not forget...  
  
"Charon."  
  
"NO!" The child's scream was piercing, jarring. She leapt from the bed, snatching the book from Setsuna's hand and closing it forcefully.  
  
Setsuna stared at her dumbfounded. "Give me the book."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Young lady, give me that book."  
  
"No!" In that single word, her shrill voice had dropped into a deep, menacing growl. Her cobalt eyes flashed, filling all the room with their blue hue. Her lips curled into a feral snarl. "You could have had happiness here, you know. You could have lived here forever, surrounded by everything you ever wanted. To be needed. To be loved. Instead you still choose to return to your bitter memories, like a dog returning to its vomit. You've had your chance, Pluto. Now you are a trespasser, and I can no longer tolerate your presence here."  
  
Setsuna's mind was reeling. It was all a trap. The lioness trapped the hunter. The key. I need the key. But the key is in the book, I can feel it.  
  
But the key was meant for me. It is mine for the taking. And I'm tired of waiting for someone else to help me.  
  
She stretched a hand out towards the book. "To my hand!" As if waiting for this, a light shot from the book's pages, straight into her palm. She did not even need to see it; she could feel the heavy stone against her fingers.  
  
The child screamed. "No!"  
  
Setsuna smirked, squeezing the object in her hand. "Maybe next time."  
  
And then she was gone.  
  
************  
  
¹"Achy Breaky Heart" performed by Billy Ray Cyrus; originally sung by The Marcy Brothers under the title "Don't Tell My Heart". My sincerest apologies for using this song.  
  
²"neesan" or "onee-san" is the Japanese word for "older sister." Children sometimes use the "neesan" or "niisan" (older brother) suffix for older people who they are familiar with, but aren't necessarily related to. 


	8. Hour 6

Kodoku no Fortress   
  
Hour VI   
  
By Spirit-hime   
  
Brown. That was the color of the vast stretches of the sun-baked grass. Or was it perhaps a shade closer to dun? One thing was certain: it was most definitely not green.  
  
The tanish ground rolled for miles in every direction, unbroken in its journey towards the distant horizon. Clouds dappled the azure sky, sending autumn-yellowed streams of sunshine shooting through their billowy mounds, warming the already deadened grass. Such an empty expanse of land. It must surely have been a desert, or at the very least, some kind of prairie. It most certainly was not anywhere near Tokyo.   
  
An empty, deserted land. Where the sky, in its measurelessly sprawling borders, was easily mirrored by its terrestrial counterpart in all its vast, undisturbed glory. It rolled by, wave after wave of gently sloping hills, of unaltered flatness, of unadulterated plainness. Here and there an oddity would come into sight: a squat tree, twisted and gnarled in the wind; an ancient shed, its wood long faded and crumbling; the skeleton of a truck, so rusted and overgrown with weeds that it appeared to have sprung out of the ground like a mutated dandelion. Such sights were sparse; islands in a never-ending sea. They appeared suddenly, and vanished just as fast.  
  
Setsuna knew this kind of bleakness well. She understood it. It was the emptiness of a thousand years, the isolation of an island in a sea of mist. She felt a sort of contentment as she watched the emptiness slide by, knowing that this time, she was not a part of it. That she was perfectly protected from that desolation in her little shell, sitting at a nice little cafe table, a paper cup of earl gray in her hand.  
  
She took a small sip of the tea, reveling in its warm, comfortable taste. She held it cupped in both hands, absorbing the warmth between her fingers. There was a friendly sort of murmur from the passengers around her as they chatted with one another at similar little tables, drinking from similar paper cups, reading from crinkling newspapers.  
  
She had found herself here, one of many faceless people on a classy passenger train. Her outfit had once again changed, and she was now dressed in a long black coat with buttons down the front, with black pants and a maroon top underneath. Unlike the other worlds she had turned up in, she felt no initial sense of confusion, nor did she allow herself to become lost in it. She was Meiou Setsuna, resident of 20th-century Tokyo, Japan, Earth, and she had no intention of forgetting that any time soon. She was through with aimlessly stumbling from place to place, through with forgetting every event that occurred from one moment to the next. It was time she took matters into her own hands, time she followed the path instead of waiting to be led.  
  
It was time she started taking control of her place in time.  
  
It was the key that had brought her here. The key had been leading her everywhere until this point, dragging her from one time to the next through some personal agenda of its own. But this time it did not pull her along, dropping her unceremoniously in some random place, only to depart again. This time she willingly followed it, allowing it to lead her where it would. It softly beckoned to her, called her to the place it wanted. When the time was right, it whispered to her that it was, and coaxed her to go on ahead. This she did, and now she was here.   
  
She was not sure what the key was after, but she was beginning to hazard a guess. There were far too many coincidences going on here. Her birthday. The Key of the Ferryman. The Akuma Neko. And him. The man in the dungeon. The figure in the picture book. They were him, and yet not him. Rather, they were like shadows of him, like pieces of the whole. When she came to this realization, she reached a tentative, yet drastic conclusion. If Oroszlan is alive... if the lioness never died in the first place...  
  
Who's to say that he ever did?  
  
She was reaching, she knew. For a powerful shapeshifting demoness to survive after all this time was one thing, but a human--even a powerful one--was an entirely different matter. The very idea that he could have lived after that day was almost unthinkable. Factor in issues such as why he would go so long without trying to contact her, and you could pretty much kiss that theory goodbye. But...  
  
But she so wanted it to be true. Even if it wasn't, even if there was no way in a million years that it could ever occur... as long as there was that single glimmer of hope, she had to believe in the possibility of it. She had to try. To find out for sure. And the only way to do that was to follow the key.  
  
Even if it meant her hope would be dashed? Yes, even then.  
  
Hope was an oddly refreshing feeling for her. It was something she seldom felt. Certainty was a constant in Setsuna's life. The certainty of time. The certainty of change. The certainty of the future. Even in the darkest moments in battle, when it seemed that all would be lost, never did her faith in Princess Serenity, in the future she would bring, begin to waver. That, too, was a certainty. Crystal Tokyo was a certainty. But now, she had something better than certainty. She had hope. To her, hope felt adventurous. Even devious.  
  
"'Scuse me, miss. Is this seat taken?"  
  
Setsuna gave a friendly, knowing smile to the man who stood next to her. "You're right on time."  
  
"Am I?" Amusement played in his voice as he slid into the chair across from her. His bright, coal-black eyes sparkled with it. He ran a hand through his unusual hair--a scruffy tangle of dusty green with a white stripe running down the center.  
  
She nodded sagely. "I was just thinking about how nice it would be if a young man would come over and talk to me, and here you are!"  
  
"Well I'm hardly one to keep a lady waiting."  
  
"I should hope not. It seems to me that a great many ladies would wait for one such as you, sir."  
  
"Hoards of them. Makes one horribly busy, you know."  
  
Setsuna raised an eyebrow. "Well then, I should be thankful that you ever found time for an ordinary woman such as myself."  
  
"You are anything but ordinary, my dear."  
  
"Are you always this flirtatious?"  
  
"Are you?"  
  
With a soft smirk, the green-haired woman reached across the table, offering her hand. "Meiou Setsuna."  
  
He shook it. His hand was warm, his grip firm but gentle, his skin soft but callused. "Kurogawa Kado. So where are you headed, Ms. Meiou?"  
  
"I'm on a journey to visit my past."  
  
"No, what you're -on- is a journey to visit your future. The past is back that way." He pointed behind her, never losing his casual grin. "You can't exactly be going back in time, now can you?"  
  
She tilted her head at him, curious. "Really? Is the memory not a kind of time machine? Can't you revisit past experiences in your mind?"  
  
"Ah, well you should be more specific, then. A memory is a mere shadow of the past. It's nothing but an old photograph. You cannot visit a photograph."  
  
For a moment, Setsuna lost her gentle smile. "But to regain memories you thought you lost, that is almost like reliving them. It is like experiencing them all over again. Then too, it is much like visiting them." A whisper of sadness crept into her voice, so soft that many untuned ears would not have picked it up, but it did not go unnoticed by the green-haired stranger. He said nothing, only looked at her with his dark, understanding eyes. She appreciated that. She appreciated that he did not make any false attempts at comfort, that he did not try to fill the empty space with equally empty words. The miles rolled by, filled only with earl gray and a pair of black eyes that she could not stop gazing at.  
  
"Can you tell me, Mr. Kurogawa, why do people forget?"  
  
If the man was surprised by the abrupt question, he did not show it. But Setsuna suspected that he was not surprised. "The same reason that people don't go back to Utah or Nebraska, unless absolutely necessary. You don't visit the places you don't like, just as you don't visit the memories you don't like. Unless something forces you back, you may never see it again."  
  
"And which is better, the remembering or the forgetting?"  
  
"Let me ask you this: which is more painful, that you remembered again, or that you ever forgot in the first place?"  
  
"That's a good question. Is leaving Nebraska a painful experience?"  
  
That remark set him laughing. It was a jubilant, contagious laugh; so much so that other people nearby could not help but smile politely in his direction, though they did not share in the joke. "You've got a tongue on you, Miss Meiou."  
  
The crimson-eyed woman smiled innocently, a carefully manicured fingernail idly bobbing the teabag in its dark brownish liquid. "Do I? I use it so seldom, I'm sure there are some who would believe otherwise."  
  
"Beautiful AND smart. Is there anything you aren't capable of?"  
  
"Well I can't sing. I've established that fact rather recently."  
  
"Too bad. I could listen to your voice all day."  
  
Setsuna licked a drop of tea from her finger, eyes turned towards the window. There was once a time when such a remark could make her blush.   
  
"So, Mr. Kurogawa, you know where I'm headed. Care to indulge me?"  
  
"Ah, well unlike you, Ms. Meiou, I am in no way, shape, or form headed in the direction of my past. In fact, I am very much rushing open-armed towards my future."  
  
"Why the rush? The future will get here when it does. Keep running like that, and before you know it, you'll be dead. That, my friend, is the future that everyone will find, someday."  
  
"Well you see, Ms. Meiou, recently I have found myself quite dissatisfied with my life, as it were, and I'm rather in a hurry to change things."  
  
"I see. But what will you do if you don't like the changes that are made? What if they're bad changes?"  
  
"Change is always good when you live in a world of monotony."  
  
"Is it? You must not live in a very good world, then."  
  
"The world I live in is imperfect. That, I am certain, is a constant that can never be changed. However, there are some changes I wish to find, if indeed they will allow themselves to be found."  
  
"Oh, but there is one factor which you overlook. The greatest constant of all is change. Empires are built and destroyed. People, creatures, stars are all born, and all of them someday die. Galaxies are formed, and they too are destroyed. Change is ever-present, even for those who fail to see it."  
  
"Indeed, but I have found that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Change is nothing but an endless cycle. The same old steps are replayed over and over, with little to differentiate one from another."  
  
The flat, desolate land rolled by like an endless tide. In the distance, the sun could be seen streaming down in golden beams that shone between the clouds, giving a mystical sort of shine to the otherwise dull setting.  
  
"In a way," the man continued, "nothing ever changes."  
  
"Then why not break the cycle?" The question came out a little more harshly than Setsuna intended. She could not imagine why this pseudo-philosophical conversation even mattered to her, or why she felt so defiant of the strange man's position.  
  
He gave a small smirk, a quick, agreeing nod. "That," Mr. Kurogawa said simply, "is exactly my point."  
  
The train was beginning to slow, as it approached the next stop. The green-haired man glanced at his watch.  
  
"Well, Ms. Meiou, it has been a pleasure, but I'm afraid my stop is coming up."  
  
"Oh," breathed Setsuna, remembering something. "Could you tell me the time, please?"  
  
"It's six o'clock," Kado said absentmindedly, draping his coat over one arm. He looked up at her again, swallowing her with those ebony eyes. "Perhaps we'll meet again someday."  
  
"Perhaps." Setsuna extended a slender hand across the table. "Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Kurogawa."  
  
He reached out, accepting it. "The feeling is mutual Ms. Me--" The words died in his throat as her hand clasped his, but before he could pull it back, she had already clamped down on it with sailor senshi strength. His entire body went rigid, and he was staring at Setsuna with what could only be described as surprise. The garnet-eyed woman watched him calmly, the only sign of effort on her part being the white knuckles that showed on her hand. Their hands felt warm and soft against each other, and anyone watching them may have thought they were two lovers who were holding one another tight as they gazed into each other's eyes. But no onlooker would have seen the piece of cold, hard stone that rested between their two palms. The greyish-black stone that had been carved into the shape of a tiny key.  
  
The man's eyes trailed down to the two hands that were clasped between them on the table, but a few attempted tugs seemed to tell him that he would be unable to release himself without causing a scene. When he looked back up at Setsuna, all traces of surprise had left him, and he even gave her a bit of a devious, knowing smirk.  
  
"Not playing by the rules, are you Ms. Meiou?"  
  
Setsuna smiled sweetly. "How can I play by the rules if I do not even know what game I'm in, Mr. Kurogawa?"  
  
"The game? The game you're in could be summed up as a complicated version of cat and mouse, I suppose. The question, of course, is which are you? The cat or the mouse?"  
  
"I'd like the answer to that, myself. That is one of my many questions."  
  
"What is it you're after, Ms. Meiou?"  
  
"I want answers."  
  
"There aren't any. That's as much an answer as you'll find."  
  
Setsuna gripped his hand tighter, pushing the cold stone deeper into his flesh. He seemed to wince a little. "That isn't helping, Mr. Kurogawa."  
  
"I don't have your answers, Ms. Meiou."  
  
"Then who does? You know what I'm looking for. You know it, and you know me. Why was I led here if you're no help to me?"  
  
The green-haired man leaned back in his seat, his arm stretched at full length like a leash that he could not be rid of. "Yes, I know what you're after. The person of your past, am I right?" He shook his head. "I'm not the one you're looking for."  
  
"Then who are you?"  
  
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "Just a piece of the puzzle." He took a breath, glancing around the small car as though to pluck his words out from the ceiling or beneath the tables. "You'll get the answers you're looking for at the river Acheroin. Pay the ferryman his fare, then ride upstream to the place where sorrows begin. You'll know what to do from there."  
  
Setsuna nodded, mentally recording the cryptic directions for later.   
  
"Setsuna," he looked at her directly, calling her by her given name for the first time, "you should also know this. The color blue is more dangerous than it seems. The lioness often shrouds her fangs beneath the fur of a kitten. At the twelfth hour, look for the rose of tarnished steel. And remember that the key lies in unity."  
  
"Any other riddles for me?"  
  
"Nope, I think that's pretty much it." The man's hand slipped from hers as the train slowly chugged to a stop. The empty paper cup of earl grey toppled over and rolled to the floor. "It's been lovely, Ms. Meiou, but I'm afraid I must get off here."  
  
"So must I. Goodbye, Mr. Kurogawa." Her hand closed around the small object in her palm. He gave her a passing nod, then turned to join the ranks of other people who were filing out.  
  
The last she saw of him was the back of his greenish head, before the man, the passengers, the train, vanished from her sight, and Meiou Setsuna was alone again.  
  
----------  
  
(cough) Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. Even I was beginning to think that I may never get back to it. Thank you to everyone who has been patient with me, and who sticks with this fic despite its oddities. We're halfway through it, guys, and we may just get to the end yet! 


	9. Reader's Guide

Kodoku no Fortress  
  
Reader's Guide  
  
By Spirit-hime  
  
I've gotten quite a few comments about how this fic is difficult to follow. A large portion of that was intentional, and as we get closer to the end, it should become clearer, but just in case everyone is still confused, I've provided a quick summary to hopefully help clarify some things.  
  
Prologue - The sailor senshi throw Setsuna a surprise birthday party. Setsuna arrives late and soaked from the rain.  
  
Hour I - After the party, Setsuna dries off in her room. She recalls finding a strange key in her purse, which she seems to recognize. When the key is dropped on the floor, it begins glowing, and the space-time door appears. She picks up the key, and is suddenly sucked through the door.  
  
Hour II - As she lays unconscious, Setsuna has some dreams of the past. In the first, she remembers meeting a person by the name of Charon for the first time, and being rather annoyed with him. In the second, she and Charon play an interesting version of chess, which ends in a tie. Charon flips a strange gold coin to determine the winner. In the third, the much older Pluto and Charon have a small duel, which ends with Pluto as the victor. The two have grown very close in their time together, and seem to be developing something of a relationship.  
  
Hour 2:30 - Setsuna's dreams of the past continue. In her dreams, Pluto is sinking into a depression due to the many years spent in the Underworld. She confides in Charon, who kisses her. Not long after, she discovers him missing, and goes looking for him. She rescues him from the Winds of Hades, and finds that he had crossed time to get her a light purple rose. Pluto brings him back to her castle to bandage him up, and confesses that she doesn't know what she would do if she lost him.  
  
Hour III - Setsuna wakes up in an alternate timeline in which the Dark Kingdom has taken over Earth, with Endymion at its head. Endymion commands his officer, Kunzite, to have her killed, but as soon as they are alone, Kunzite tells her that he can help her escape. Unfortunately, they run into another officer, Venus, and Kunzite is forced to bring her down to the dungeons, instead. In her cell, Setsuna encounters a man who looks exactly like Charon, but who does not seem to recognize her. The same key that Setsuna found in her purse falls out of his pocket, and there is a bright flash of light.  
  
Hour IV - She wakes up in the gardens outside Crystal Palace of Crystal Tokyo. At first, it seems like it is the same Crystal Tokyo that she knew, but she soon finds that the personality of King Endymion is drastically different, which may be only one small indication of the larger differences in the timeline. She is rescued from his company by another man who looks like Charon. Unlike the last one, he actually goes by the name Charon, and he knows Setsuna. Something seems different about him, however, and he is soon revealed to be a shapeshifter known as Akuma Neko, and not Charon at all. The creature claims to have known Setsuna in the past, and seems to have had some connection with Charon's apparent demise. Before it can do anything to her, the key appears between them. As she grabs it, she's certain she hears a voice she knows whispering to her.  
  
Hour V - Setsuna finds herself in a Hansel and Gretel-esque setting, complete with edible house and an insane amount of children--who are actually young forms of all of the sailor senshi. As she resigns herself to taking care of them, her memories of her life outside the gingerbread house seem to fade away. A strange little girl with blue eyes asks her to read her a bedtime story, and as she does so, Setsuna loses her memories completely. When she opens a certain picture book, she sees a cloaked man with eyes like Charon's, and suddenly remembers everything. The little girl turns out to be Akuma Neko in disguise. Setsuna causes the key to appear in her hand, and leaves the gingerbread world of her own will.  
  
Hour VI - Setsuna is on a passenger train, and this time feels no sense of forgetfulness of the past timelines she has visited. As she is gazing out the window, a man who bears resemblance to Charon (we seem to get a lot of those) sits down and talks to her, introducing himself as Kurogawa Kado. Although he acts as though he does not know her, Setsuna plays a trick on him that forces him to admit to her what he knows about the real Charon. She follows the advice he gives her, and uses the key to move to the next timeline.  
  
Hope that clarifies things a bit! If you're still confused, just wait a bit. Things will hopefully start to make more sense as they are revealed. 


End file.
